Stuck in Middle earth!
by shadow08
Summary: middle earth was one place that Sam & Tasha, best friends, had only dreamed of. what happens when they are suddenly dropped down to the place they thought didn't exist? what spills and thrills are abound for them? now updated!
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. and i higly doubt i ever will unless of course, by some miracle, JRRT rises from the dead and personally gives it's ownership to me. and since that is as likely to happen as it is for pigs to fly, let's just get on with the story.**

**Chapter 1: A big surprise...**

Samantha Richards sat in front of the computer, her best friend Natasha Sanders sitting beside her. She was really beginning to get annoyed at Tasha's constant rants about how simply "to die for" Faramir was.

"Honestly, if I hear you say "Faramir is hot" one more time I'm gonna jump off the roof!" she said in exasperation.

"Oh, shut up Sam!" Tasha told her friend. "You're just as big of a fan as I am! Besides, _I'm_ not the one who memorized all three films and movies."

"It's not my fault I was born with a photographic memory, you jackass." she said her eyes on the computer screen.

"Oh come on Sammie!" Tasha crooned. "You know you love Legolas."

"Oh hush up, you marshmallow!" she retorted with a smile. She and Tasha were always fighting, or to put it in more accurate terms, bantering. Tasha and Sam were as different as night and day. Tasha was the extrovert of the two. She preffered things like cheerleading, guys, bright colors and parties, which suited her blonde hair and trim body. Sam on the other handwas the introvert. Preffering to stay at home and reading books, than going out. She was the more sensible of the two. Blessed with a photographic memory, she could do almost anything. a top student and a lover of Black and other dark colors. And her attitude suited her raven hair and pale skin perfectly.

"Mmmm.. Marshmallow.." Tasha said dreamily. Sam laughed and threw a pillow at her friend.

As she was skimming the web page she was on the monitor suddenly turned off and the printer started vibrating, clearly printing something.

"What the fuck!" she screeched sitting up. Sam picked up her bag from the foot of the computer table and threw it onto the bed. Tasha had stood up and was now clutching Sam's arm.

"What happened?" she asked in a nervous whisper.

"Tash, I'd like my arm to live please." she answered breatheing as she loosened her grip.

"It's printing something."Tasha said.

"No shit." she answered reaching over and picking up the papers. "Looks like we have to assemble this."

She walked over to her bed and sat down. Reaching over to her bag she brought out a roll of scotch tape.

"Sam if you don't mind my asking, why do you have like, a ton of clothes and stuff in here?" Tasha asked her friend as she rummaged through her stuff.

"Sleeping over at my Mom's house." she answered vaguely.

"Oh." Tasha said falling silent. Sam's parents had separated a year ago so she was now living with her dad. But she still had to visit her mom from time to time.

"I got it!" Sam exclaimed.

"What?"

"It's a map!" she explained exuberantly.

"A map?" she asked quizzically.

"Yep. Of Middle Earth." answered Sam quickly taping up the pieces.

"Woah," Tasha breathed as she saw it. It _was_ a complete map of Middle Earth. She watched Sam trace a finger lightly on the trail the fellowship had taken on it's journey. Sam's hand rested on the spot before Caradhras.

"Shit." Sam whispered loudly.

"What?"Tasha asked.

"My bleeding finger is stuck!" she answered. Tasha's eyes grew wide. "Give me the bag!" she screeched at her friend. It was handed to her just as her finger started slipping down _into_ the paper map. Sam screamed as she sank through, seeing this, Tasha grabbed her friend's ankle. But she might as well have jumped in as well, for all the good it did. And she was pulled in as well. The map disappearing from her bed and falling after them.

Sam screamed loudly as she fell, her surroundings spinning. She heard a familiar screaming somewhere near her.

"Tasha!" she managed to scream out.

"Sam! What's happening!" came her friends scream.

"HELP!" screamed Sam desperately to the people on the ground below them. Bracing herself for the impact of the ground rushing up to meet them, she closed her eyes.

A pair of strong arms caught both girls as they fell from the sky, eyes closed.

"Oh my god, am I dead?" she asked aloud, trembling and not opening her eyes.

"I should say not my lady." answered a voice. "Though you almost killed _me_ with your bag."

"Where's Tasha?" she asked still not opening her eyes.

"If you are reffering to your companion, she is fine. Aragorn is attending to her as we speak." he answered. He still had not set her down.

She gasped. "Aragorn?" she asked skeptically. " Do you mean to say I'm in Middle Earth?"

"Why yes, you are, fair maiden." he answered.

"I don't believe you." she retorted. "And I won't. Not unless I hear Gandalf."

"As you wish." he siad with an amused note to his voice. _Boy, whoever this guy is he sure is annoying._ "Mithrandir." he called.

"Put her down lad, put her down." came Gandalf's wizened voice.

"Now do you believe me?" he asked smugly.

"You're damn annoying!You know that?" she retorted her eyes still closed. "Who are you anyway?"

"If you would open your eyes fair lady, you would see who I am." he said.

Sam gave an impatient huff and slowly opened her emerald green eyes. She gasped as she saw who the person carrying her was. Amusement was evident in the azure orbs looking down on her. It was Legolas Greenleaf, and Samantha Richards was in Middle Earth...

**okay, so how was it? i know this is a pretty common theme, dropping into middle earth. i liked the idea so i did it. waddya think? oh and i know that i should be posting another chappie for "Different from the rest" w/c i will. soon...**

**shadOw08... c",)**


	2. Get to know the fellowship

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR and no matter how much I cry, it will never be mine. So let's just bow down to Tolkien's supreme genius shall we?**

**Chapter 2: Get to know the fellowship!**

Sam-

"Will you put me down please? I snapped at Legolas. He smirked but put me down nonetheless. Damn Elf! I never would've thought he would be such a gigantic prat! Ok, back to reality. I realize that yes, we have become Mary Sues.

Dammit!

I walk over to Tasha who was sitting on a rock beside Gandalf.

Ah, crap. Gandalf…

I forgot about him. Yes, I know what you're thinking. 'He just spoke awhile ago, how could you forget?' Shut up. I sat down next to Tasha.

"You ok?" she asked me, as I sat down.

"We just fell from the bloody sky! What do you think?" I snap at her. Yes, I admit, I do snap at people a lot. But, _you_ try falling from the damn sky and landing in Middle Earth and let's see _your_ attitude. Fortunately, Tasha's used to my moods and me. Ok, back to the point. I was babbling again wasn't I?

"So my dears, would you care to explain yourselves?" Gandalf asks us.

No. But ok. We fell from the damn bloody sky, landed gob smacked into the middle of a fellowship carrying a lethal ring which will decide the fate of all. And to add to that, we thought that all of this was fictional up until ten seconds ago.

Oops. I have just realized that I said that out loud.

Shit…

Tasha-

Ok, I knew Sam was in need of therapy. I just knew it!

"Sam!" I whisper reproachfully. She looks apologetically at me. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment. Gandalf's looking at us too. Like we've each sprouted extra heads. Ok Sam, this is your stage. You're the brains. What do we do now?

Sam-

Ugh… me and my big mouth! Honestly, I'm the quiet one but when I'm in the mood or when I'm not myself I can just shoot off at random intervals and you won't know what hit you. Basically because, you won't understand a damn thing!

"Uh yeah… It's true." Tasha puts in nervously. Gandalf regains his composure as we wait. I wonder if I can tune him out now…

Nope, no such luck.

"I still do not understand." Gandalf said.

Sigh.

"We come from a different world, which I'm sure you can tell for yourself, and in our world there are no such things as Elves or Dwarves or Wizards. They exist only in myths and folklore. And you and all of these are characters in a book written by a genius called Tolkien."

(Freak Zombie brain voice) Yes! Bow down to the genius of which Tolkien is! Gandalf nods in understanding, and mutters something about Lothlorien and us coming and heads off to a bunch of trees. Oh well… I'm getting hungry. And it looks like we're going to Lothlorien. Yay!

Tasha-

Well, I can say one thing about my best friend, she thinks fast. I'm not complaining though. I would've made a bigger mess of things if it were me. Ooh, Sam's heading for food! I'm getting really hungry… Oh My Gosh! HOBBITS!

Gandalf-

Very strange these girls. Very strange. I really can't quite imagine a world without Elves or Dwarves or even Wizards. And their speech is quite peculiar as well. Understandable but not quite. Perhaps Lady Galadriel might know their purpose. Hmm… Must think of that…

Sam-

Tasha's gone absolutely loco. Yup, she is absolutely fucking nutty! Currently, she is hugging the life out of poor Pippin. Yes, I do realize that he's enormously cute. All hobbits are. Love, Love, Love. But I'm not a hugs person. Or maybe I am… but I'd rather get to know the person I'm gonna hug first.

Hmm… fire… warm…

Yes it's cold, and I need food. Oh look, there's Boromir.

"Hello, nice fire huh?" I say to him. Have I mentioned that I absolutely suck at making a conversation? No? Well, I do. Yeah, he just looks at me, amused. Like I'm some kind of monkey or something. Are there even monkeys in Middle Earth by the way? Hmm.. must do research on that. Well, are we gonna eat now? My tummy's gettin' mad y'all. Ok, Gandalf's back. Everyone's here! Eek! The elven stud muffin is beside me! I still think he's a totally arrogant jerk but I won't deny that he's hella hot. Studly ranger guy is beside Gandalf, then Sam the sweet hobbit, passing out food. Then Frodo, Pippin and Merry. My blonde best friend, the stud muffin, me, the Gondor man and the Dwarf. Now for food! Yay!

Tasha-

FOOOOOOOOOOOOD! Yes, I have become a zombie. Boy, I'm hungry. And yes, if you really must know, I am staring at Boromir. I wonder if I'll ver get to meet his brother. Hmm… oh food! Woo hoo!

Sam-

"Tell me my ladies, what are your names?" came the voice of Boromir.

Wha?

Oh, sorry. I tuned out for a minute there.

"Natasha." Tasha says. "But Tasha for short."

"It's Samantha." I tell them with a small smile that I learned from Tasha. "But just call me Sam."

"Sam?" Frodo echoes.

I just nod. I am now busy with my heart attack on a plate. Sausages, bacon and lots and lots of grease. Wonderful. Please note sarcasm…

"For a woman?" Boromir asks incredulous.

Chomp, chew, swallow, glare. In that necessary order. I guess I must've looked mighty evil cause he backed off. But I don't think that's the last I've heard of it though.

"Can you fight?" Aragorn asks us seriously. Tasha and I look at each other and grin. We both nod. Yes, we took sword-fighting lessons. My dad, great guy that he is, hired me a private trainer and Tasha and I were taught how to fight. By the way, have I mentioned that I love my Dad? No? well I do. Daddy, love, love, love. Hang on…

OH.

MY.

GIDDY.

AUNT.

SALLY.

I have just realized something… being in Middle Earth means… Oh no!

No chocolate….

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

…

**a/n: hey guys! Waddya think? School's starting up again so I don't know when I'll be posting again. But just to make it up to you guys I'm posting another chapter. Hope ya like it! Oh yeah, special thanks to:**

**shadOw08 c",)**


	3. Issues with women

**Chapter 3: Issues against women… **

Ok… That's done. I was having a moment there. Meanwhile, Aragorn's asking who'll take the first watch.

"I'll do it." I volunteer. Which now brings me to ask_ why_ is everyone staring at me like I've sprouted another head?

"But you're a woman." Boromir protests. Told you I haven't heard the last of that. Seriously, men here have gotten an overdose of testosterone.

"Ugh! Why must you constantly point that out?" I ask him irritably. "So what if I'm a woman?"

"A woman's place is in the household. She should not meddle in the affair of men." Boromir tells me. I roll my eyes.

"Dude, just cause we're different in shape doesn't mean we're different in skills. I can fight and I will. I'm taking the first watch and that's it. If you've got problems with that take it up with my sword." Yep, that shut 'em up. The stud muffin's staring at me. I think I should be running towards the opposite direction now… Oh well. Whatever.

Tasha-

Go Sammie! Oh yeah, girl power rules! I do pity Boromir a bit though. When Sam gets her mind set on something she gets really stubborn. She won't let you win especially if her cause is for the greater good and if it's something she believes in. But then again, maybe it's just because he's the studly Faramir's big brother and I'm being biased.

"Alright Sam, we will allow you to have the first watch. But you must let Legolas accompany you."

Uh-Oh… Sam's not gonna like that. I don't think she and Legolas are on good terms. But then again, that's only her point of view. And she can be known to overlook _certain_ things. If you know what I mean. Yup, she can be incredibly dense. Yeah, I think I'll be running for the hills now…

Sam-

Did I mention that I hate elves? No? Well, I do. Hate, hate, hate! Bloody elf is purposely tormenting me! And so is that damn ranger! Why? I don't know. Tasha? Where are you when I need you? Oh yeah, you're too busy strangling Pippin or some other hobbit. Dammit! Oh by the way, I just remembered. Where's my bag?

"Has anyone seen my bag?" I ask them. I'm getting cold and I need my jacket. That and I think I have a pack of cookies in there. I never leave home without junk food. And my crafting kit. Yep. I have got to find it!

WOOT! I found my bag!

"Sam?" I look up. Oh crap. I hate my mother. Yeah, it wasn't me they were calling. It was Samwise. Why do I hate my mother? Because she named me Samantha. Which automatically makes my nickname Sam. Oh, that wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that there's another person called Sam here. And now we're gonna have issues about the name and who the fuck they're referring to. Bloody Hell.

I blame you mother.

I throw Tasha my extra jacket. Yeah, I figured she'll be needing it soon enough. It's cold. We're heading for Caradhras tomorrow.

"Lady Samantha." Now that I know is directed to me. I look up. And guess what? It's Boromir.

"Yeah?" I ask a bit warily. He sits down next to me. Okayy..

Boromir-

It is not that I doubt their skills in battle, although they have yet to prove us wrong. But it cannot be helped. It is not a woman's place to be in battle. They should be in the house taking care of children and such. There's a lot we have yet to learn about these strangers. But now, I think it best, as a man of Gondor to apologize for my rude behavior towards Lady Samantha.

"I apologize for my rudeness earlier on." I say sitting down next to her.

"Don't worry about it honey face." She says. Honey face? "I know it's hard for you. Women here are expected to do different things. They're not expected to fight and die in battles like men." Her eyes have glazed over and she has a smile on her face. "Besides, it's kinda hard to trust us when you haven't even seen us fight right?"

I laugh at this. 'Tis true.

"Apology accepted Boromir." She says. "Only," she adds seriously. "Don't call me Lady."

I laugh out loud again and bid her goodnight.

Perhaps I was wrong about her…

Sam-

Aww… I like Boromir. He's honest. And it takes a lot of guts to admit what he did to a woman. Ok… Elves are weird. Legolas and I are the only ones left awake. Everyone's gone to sleep. I am currently keeping as much distance between him and myself. Why? He was staring at me! I do NOT like being stared at. Have I got something on my face dammit? And what is with the ears turning pink? Weird. I'll say it again.

ELVES ARE WEIRD.

And I shall stand by that judgement. We are gonna be relieved by Aragorn and Gimli soon. We're gonna head for Caradhras it seems. Does that mean Tasha and I have missed the crebain episode? Woo hoo, let's party. I detest those birds. They're so bloody noisy. I have got misgivings about Caradhras of course. I mean it's a wretched mountain. But I love the snow. But for the life of me, I hate heights. I'm getting sleepy. I'll worry about the mountain tomorrow. Right now, why is the ground moving? Oh, there's studly ranger guy and dwarfy. I think I'm gonna go sleep now. Good night.

…

**a/n: well that's it. I hope you liked it! I'll try to post more by the end of the week. But I'm not promising anything. I have to update three other stories too…so I really don't know. Anyways, kindly read and review!**

**shadOw08 c",)**


	4. To Caradhras, away!

**A/n: hey y'all! Since it was just my birthday, here's the next chappie of Stuck in Middle Earth! As a treat…**

**Chapter 4: To Caradhras, away!**

**-Sam-**

Well, it's official, we're going to Caradhras!

Joy, bloody fecking Joy!

Hey, just because I knew it was gonna happen, didn't mean I had to like it!

Oh, and in case you're wondering, I _didn't_ get much sleep last night. I spent most of the time thinking.

About what?

Well… lots of stuff. Like, if Tasha and me will ever get home… stuff like that.

I am not having the peachiest day. First off, I was woken by my _oh-so-wonderful_ best friend too early for my liking. And then, due to my advanced state of sleepiness, I managed to entangle myself in my blanket and land in a well… _not-so-graceful_ heap on the ground.

All in all, I'd say that was a lovely morning!

Yeah right! Can't you just hear the dripping sarcasm? Oh I'm hungry! Damn! Sausages _again_? I think I'll pass. What is it with hobbits and sausages? Oh never mind, I'll just get a muffin from my bag. Like I said before, I _never_ leave home without junk food. Wonder if Tasha wants one…

**-Tasha-**

Sam looks like a bloody headless chook! Of course, I would _never_ say it aloud but she does. Or rather, she did. She looks tired today… I wonder why…

"Tasha!" she called.

"What?" I call back from my seat with the others, in front of the fire.

"You want a muffin?" she asks me. I think her brain got damaged when she tripped… but leave it to Sam to think of junk food the minute she wakes up. But regardless of that fact, Sam has killer-cooking skills.

"That depends," I answer from my sausages. "Did you make them?"

She finally sidled in beside me and sat down.

"I made blueberry muffins the other day, and they wound up in my bag." She said with a Cheshire cat grin. "Lucky Huh?"

"I'll say." I said grinning as well. Muffins! Yay!

**-Sam-**

I handed Tasha a muffin and turned to the others. "Would you like some?"

They all looked at me blankly.

"Beg Pardon Miss," Samwise said, breaking the silence. "What is a muffin?"

Sigh. I handed them each a muffin. Damn them, all they did was sniff it.

"I don't go around putting poison into the food I eat you know." I tell them offended. And I am. My cooking skills are the one thing in the universe that isn't affected by my utter klutziness. So when I know that the food I made is good, I take bad things against it to heart. I guess they saw that I was offended and took cautious bites. After that they disappeared faster than blinking. But hey! They liked it, yay! Never underestimate the power of the muffin! As Cosmo of FairlyOddParents once said "_The muffin is powerful! Bow down to it!"_ or something like that… it's Tasha's opinion actually, that when given any kind of baked good, you should just eat it and be happy.

Yeah… going to move on now… I do realize that Caradhras is going to be extremely cold. I'm not _that_ dense. Actually, I don't think I'm dense. Tasha seems to think so though… Yup, Caradhras will be cold.

Oh, that was the understatement of the _century_!

Caradhras is full-blown-out-of-this-world-freezes-your-hair-and-makes-you-feel-like-your-fingers-are-about-to-fall-off-with-frost-bite kinda cold. We have started our trek over Caradhras. Bloody Wonderful.

I have but one word on my mind. Can you guess what?

Here it is: **_Brr…_**

Ugh! This is a horrible day. Not only do I have to suffer the barf-inducing heights of Caradhras, I also have to be frozen stiff to my bones _and_ I have to lug my bag around. And it weighs a freaking ton! Feck, this is so depressing. Wait, I think someone's talking to me….

I look up to see Legolas looking expectantly at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you saying something?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you should like some assistance."

I stared at him confused. He pointed at my bag, amusement etched on his face.

"Oh," I said in comprehension. "No thank you. I can manage." I tell him and heave off toward Gimli. I like the dwarf. He's funny and honest, just like Boromir.

"Hullo!" I greeted. He gave me a smile and we continued walking.

"That was a fine piece of bread you gave us back there lass." He praised. I grinned through the cold. Like I said, the power of the muffin can't be ignored.

"Did you make it yourself?" he asked. I nodded. It's too cold to talk. And I haven't got much to say. So I'll just shut up for the meantime and focus on trying to stay warm and keeping from shivering. Actually you know, for the most part, the trek up Caradhras wasn't all that bad. Unless of course, if you count the biting wind and the freezing snow. But aside from being frozen, the only bad incident was when Frodo slipped. Yes, we are all familiar with this scene. Shall I elaborate? I didn't think so. I really feel bad about Boromir though. I like him. Not the romantic like, mind you, more of a brotherly like. I've been giving it some thought and I think I should save him. But there's this thing my brain keeps telling me. _'Don't interfere'_ yup, I still don't know what to do just yet. Must add that issue to my list of things to ponder.

**-Tasha-**

Dammit! I'm _freezing_! Honestly, I don't know how Sam could love snow. Especially in this situation.

"Your friend is quite stubborn."

AAHHH! Holy shit who was that? I turned.

Legolas, it figures!

"Why would she be stubborn?" I ask him.

"Look at her." He said gazing at Sam. "She is very clearly struggling with the weight of that pack, yet when I offered to assist her, she feigned strength, and said that she did not need it."

Ah, I sense something hidden underneath all that. Pft! He is so obvious! Too bad Sam's too dense to see it. (Sigh) it never get this cold at home. I miss home. I know how so many people would kill to be where we are, but I would give anything to see my family again. Jack and Marie… Mom and Dad… I wonder if I'll ever get to see them again…

Crap! I _hate_ snow! I bloody hate it! The snow is now chest deep with an upcoming avalanche, Legolas is nancing over the snow, and Gandalf is currently having a shouting match with Saruman. Hasn't it ever occurred to them that shouting would only make the avalanche worse? Guess not. Man, I am tired… can we please go now?

**-Sam-**

Aargh! C-C-Cold! Bag-strap choking me! Snow suffocating! Can someone please help me? I'm buried in snow here! Still here! Bollocks!

(Deep Breath) Daylight! I never thought I'd be glad to see it! Thank God!

"Who-saved-me?" I wheezed out.

"He did." Tasha said momentarily pausing from rubbing my back and pointing at Legolas.

"Thank You." I said smiling gratefully. His ears went pink (what is up with that?) and he smiled back.

Gandalf is now asking Frodo to make the decision. Oh god, poor Frodo. Here it comes…

"We will go through the mines." He said in a resolute voice.

Wonderful. I use up all my energy to hike up a damn bloody mountain only to hike back down again. Bollocks! And we go from getting killed by a mountain, to getting killed by either a octopus-like Watcher, orcs or a stinking Balrog. What a wonderfully safe life I lead. And oh yeah, this is great! We go from snowy freezing mountains to dark underground, orc infested caves. Wonderful right? Just a right old paradise. Pft! Yeah right. I don't really hate snow, in fact I love it! I just don't like being exposed to it in nothing but pants, a shirt and a jacket for extended periods of time. I don't really have any issues about being in the dark either. Usually I prefer it to being in the light but in Moria's case, I don't like being in a place where orcs are the majority and a balrog is lurking about.

Feck, now I'm depressed again…

I need a cookie.

….

A/n: hey people! Hope you liked that chapter! I'll try to post more soon. But in the meantime, since it was my birthday… give me a review as a gift! That's all I ask. See ya next chappie!

**shadOw08 c",)**


	5. Attack of the calamares watcher!

A/n: I come from the Land of Oz! (readers stare at her) (chirping crickets) right, I apologize for the delay. It has been about… 1month I think, since I updated. I was supposed to post this about a week ago but I got a copy of HBP on Thursday, which I only just finished Saturday night. Anyways, sorry for the long wait and here's the next chapter. And just so we're clear, it's been three weeks since Cardhras so yeah… I'll shut up now…

**Chapter 4: Attack of the Calamares Watcher!**

**Sam**

(flight attendant voice) Please hold on whilst I gather the pieces of my ruptured lungs. Thank you.

We have now reached the walls of Moria. And everything would be just peachy if the sodding door weren't missing. I will now sit myself down and try to tape up my lungs back together. Oh! And maybe do a little note passing with Tasha.

_Let's do the hokey-pokey!_

_-Sam_

_Did you just eat Candy?_

_-Tasha_

_(Shifty Eyes) why?_

_-Sam_

_Did you then?_

_-Tasha_

_I dunno…(evil grin) maybe…_

_-s_

_come on Sam, be serious.._

_-t_

_no, I didn't. my brain is suffering from oxygen deprivation._

_-s_

_ok, what?_

_-t_

_Never mind. Onto serious matters…like…_

_-s_

_Like what?_

_-t_

_Like how the hell we got here, why in hell, and most importantly, how the hell are we getting back?_

_-s_

_you certainly do like the word hell don't you? Anyway, have you got any hunches, ideas etc?_

_-t_

_nope. Nada. Zilch. Kaput._

_-s_

_that's encouraging._

_-t_

_I know._

_-s_

_I miss my family Sammie._

_-t_

_I know you do Tasha, I miss my dad too._

_-s_

_do you think we'll ever get back?_

_-t_

_I don't know Tasha…_

_-s_

I looked up at Tasha sadness in my eyes. Unlike me, Tasha has a great family. A big brother and a little sister, her family's very close. I kinda feel jealous of her. My family sucks. I'm an only child and my Mom's a skeeze. Dad's a great man, and I miss him so much. I wouldn't trade him for the world. But sometimes… a girl does hope for something for more.

Now I have to brace myself for the calamares attack, as Merry has already kicked the stone in and Gandalf's just opened the door. Tasha's talking to the elven stud-muffin and I'm here sitting like a deadpanned dolt.

I need air! Ok moving on…

"Sam Let's go." Tasha whispered pulling me up, the fear was evident in her voice. I could tell she was afraid of the watcher, or as I like to refer to him, Slimy Calamares. I like that, it rhymes. Ok I'm being random again… I must stalk off to where Boromir is standing.

"I have a strange feeling about this mine." He told me frowning worriedly. I clapped him on the back but said nothing as I followed the others.

Skulls, bodies and some more entities that were still in the process of being returned to dust were littered across the threshold. Yuck. Note to self: Gory movies can _never_ fully prepare you for real life. I looked at Tasha who has the most revolted expression on her face, and cracked a small hidden smile. I heard Gimli's wails and looked up from a particularly nasty decaying mass near my feet.

"This is no mine. 'Tis a tomb…" Boromir said from behind me. I whirled around to look at the others. The hobbits were all together, Gandalf was off to the side, Gimli was weeping over his kinsmen, and Aragorn was beside Tasha. I turned just in time to see Legolas pickup an arrow.

"Goblins," he spat, chucking it away. NO! knees I command you to stay solid!

Oh well, it's a losing battle really. Damn elf is just too good looking for his own bloody good. I think I should count to three now. I brought out the sword I had been given and braced myself.

1-2-3… and there goes Frodo! Sam managed to cut the first tentacle, but Slimy Calamares is persistent. Dozens of tentacles now burst from the churning water and wrapped themselves around Frodo. We ran forward to help him cutting and hacking through the tentacles with all our might. I didn't bother looking at the others, I knew they were doing the same thing as me. HACKING.

I guess old Slime didn't like getting hacked so it decided to vent all it's frustrations on me. Wonderful ain't it? One moment I was hacking him to pieces, the next he's _dangling_ me to death. As I've mentioned before, I am deathly afraid of heights. And the altitude was mind- dropping. Of course, being that it was the natural response to this kind of stimulus, I screamed. I saw Legolas showering Slimy's head with arrows and Frodo being released.

Umm.. hello? Still here! I was about to scream for help when I was hurtled through the air. An extremely painful crash resounded in my ears and I knew no more…

**Tasha**

"SAM!" I screamed running towards my best friend's limp form on the ground. I could hear Boromir or someone else shouting for us to run into the mines. I couldn't care less. I need to help Sam. I bent down and turned Sam on her back. She was bleeding and it looked like her left arm was broken.

"Oh my God, Sam.." I breathed tears obscuring my vision. A hand squeezed my shoulder and I looked up. Legolas stood there, an anguished look on his face.

"Legolas you're an elf, right? Is she--?" I couldn't bring myself to finish.

"We have not much time. Run inside."

I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off.

"I will carry her inside. Make haste!" I nodded and ran into the mines grabbing Sam's bag. Legolas and I ran inside as the rock wall came tumbling down.

Once we were safe inside, Legolas gently laid Sam's limp body on a space of clean rock.

"Is she dead?" came Pippin's voice. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes at his question. I knelt down beside my friend, brushing away the locks of ebony hair that covered her face.

Gandalf knelt down beside me as well, and called to Aragorn for a few leaves of athelas. The ranger silently handed the leaves to the old wizard who placed them on my friend's still bleeding wound.

"Would you happen to have some bandages?" he asked me. I said nothing and rummaged around my bag, hands shaking. I brought out a white shirt and ripped it into pieces with my sword. Gandalf stood up and was replaced by Legolas who bandaged Sam's head.

"Will she be ok?" I asked him, thankful that my voice didn't break.

"She is still breathing. But only time will tell what will truly happen." He said in a quiet voice.

I stood up and turned to the others, Boromir who had become sort of like an older brother to Sam stood nearby, his features clouded with concern.

"what are we supposed to do with Sam while she's unconscious?" I asked Gandalf. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he said, "she is light enough to be borne by one of us."

"I will do it." Legolas volunteered. Gandalf nodded.

"So be it. Now we have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria." He said striking his staff on the ground so that it shone with a bright light. "Keep close," he warned. "There are fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the earth."

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I watched as Legolas gently picked Sam up and started walking. Gimli followed him deep in thought. The hobbits were in the middle while Boromir and I brought up the rear. The darkness that constantly threatened to envelop us did nothing to improve my spirits.

"You need not worry yourself so much," Boromir told me. "I am sure she will be just fine. Sam is a strong girl." I nodded in answer but his tone was just as worried as mine had been. Like he didn't believe it for a minute. We walked and walked for what seemed to me like days. And just when I thought my feet couldn't walk another step, we stopped for a rest in front of the three caves. You know them; the caves that had Gandalf confused? The one where he couldn't seem to pick out which one would lead to Dwarrowdelf.

I sat down just like the others while Gandalf was trying to remember the way. Legolas set Sam down near the fire with a blanket of pillows for her to use. I could see her chest's rise and fall and I could tell that her breathing was extremely ragged. I am extremely worried now. And also hungry. I think I'll go nick a bit of muffin from Sam's bag.

….

The hobbits were eating dinner. Sausages and grease as usual. Pippin took a bite of the toasty sausage and at that exact moment, Sam shot up and said, "You killed it! You killed the sausage!" and fell back in a faint. I stared at her now sleeping form and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Five minutes later, she was sitting up again.

"Oh, look at the pretty monkeys!" she said gaily, and fell back again. This happened two more times, after every five minutes she would suddenly cry,

"Napoleon, come back!" her voice filled with anguish. Or a hilarious, "Polka-dotted monkey…"

By now all of us were staring at her weird looks on all our faces. Personally, I think she's hallucinating. And as an explanation, Napoleon is a female monkey that Sam and I found wandering the streets of California. Sam, being the weird girl that she is, took the monkey in and named her Napoleon. Unfortunately, one of her stepbrothers left the window open and Napoleon ran away. Poor Sam, she spent months looking for that monkey. Needless to say, Sam never spoke to her stepsiblings again.

I watched as Legolas settled down beside Sam's now sleeping form and stroke her bandaged head. I smile from my place as I continue watching them. He lifted her head up ever so slightly, and lowered his head as if to hear something. Frowning, I stood up and approached the pair. Sam was murmuring, her voice was barely an audible whisper. Overjoyed at this sign that she might be ok, I hurried forward. I heard Boromir's footsteps following me as I sat down to hear what she was saying.

"No, I don't want the ring! It's power means nothing… to me… if denying you… control… over me… means that I… have chosen my own… destruction… so be… it! I will not… have anything at all… to do with you… my heart… is… not yours to command… be gone! If the one… that I love… cannot return… my feelings without you… then I do not.. want his love… treachery will be the only… result…"

I stared wide-eyed at my friend, not quite drinking in all that she just said.

"What just happened here?" I asked, not daring to believe. No one seemed able to answer me though. "Did she just-?" I asked them again, with no response. I shook my head attaching a grin to my face. "She didn't, she couldn't have been battling Sauron could she?"

I looked down at my friend relief spreading through me, I sat down heaving a satisfied sigh. Sam's breathing had become less ragged and her paper white face was now less pale. She was no longer shivering, and she no longer looked in pain. Leaning back, I embraced the darkness that spread out like a blanket around me. I breathed in and released my thoughts and worries, and headed off into a deep slumber..

**A/n: hope you liked that chappie! I don't know when I'll be posting another one because I still have to study for a quiz bee, make chapters for 3 other stories so bear with me and review this one. I think it's a bit longer than my previous ones so hopefully that's compensation. I have recently learned about chain reading. So I ask you readers to read this story, review and get your friends to read and review. I hope you liked this, really. And please review.**

**shadow08 c",) **


	6. Sam's sacrifice prt 1

**A/n: hellos! Well… I'm back! Exams are over and here I am… so here ya go! I realize that it's been ages since I've done a disclaimer so here goes:**

**Disclaimer: I swear by all that is sugary, chocolaty and baked, I do not own LOTR and if you think I do, you need to consult a psychiatrist. **

**Chapter 6: Sam's sacrifice**

**Sam**

Fuck, my head is killing me.

Ooh… pretty elvish singing….

Wait… WHY the bloody hell is there elvish singing?

Oh… I remember…. I'm in Middle Earth….

Dear me, I think I'm gonna explode….

What the bloody fuck happened last night?

_Awaken little one…_

HOLY SHIT! Who the hell was that? That was definitely not me!

_Arise, and be not afraid. All is well._

Uh… ok, who are you? I'm pretty sure the demented little voice in my head wouldn't sound so amused at my babbling, so that rules it out….

_I am the Lady of the Wood._

Ah, feck. Galadriel… that'd explain the singing… I'm in Lothlorien…

Hang on…. I'M IN LOTHLORIEN! Woo-hoo! Let's party!

But that means Gandalf's dead… aww man… how long have I been out?

"Samantha," whispered a voice beside me. "wake up."

No thanks. I'll keep my eyes tightly closed thank you very much.

"Particularly stubborn today are you?" came a different voice.

Ha-ha. I realize that I've said my last thought out loud again. Stupid mouth has a mind of its own.

"Sam, wake up before we make you." Came yet another voice.

God, how many people are there? Leave me alone you codfishes!

"Oh, codfishes are we? Well, of all the insults you could throw!" came the first voice in a sarcastic tone.

"Shut up! I'm trying to sleep!" I yelled in disdain and covered myself with a blanket. Maybe they'll get the idea and go away.

….

Nope. No such luck.

"If you do not wake up this instant, you will miss breakfast. The Halflings are eating everything in sight." The voice warned.

Ah, Legolas. You should know that I will never get up for food. Particularly not the kind of food they're eating.

"Don't want food. Sleeeep…"

"Alright, I will have to resort to drastic measures then."

Don't make me laugh buddy boy. What on earth could you possibly do?

"Where did I see that bowl of water?" he said in a mock-thoughtful voice.

Eep, water? I have no intention of getting wet!

"Ok, ok I'm up! Geez, you'd think you could let a girl rest!" I complained sitting up.

I looked up at him and saw that he had this massive grin on his face.

"Ok, creepy…" I said standing up and stretching. My head is still fucking killing me.

"What happened? Why does my head feel like a horse stomped on it?" I asked him swaying dizzily.

"You do not remember the mines?" he asked looking concerned.

"Mines? Oh, yeah. Moria." I said nodding. What did I remember? Not much… we went in, got freaked out by the hordes of decay and went out. Hacked a few watcher tentacles…

Oh… yeah. Watcher… Slimy Calamares threw me into a mountain.

And something else…

I looked at Legolas who was watching me intently. I blushed and looked away. Damn it!

"Where's Tasha?" I asked him standing up.

"With the others." He answered taking me by the arm.

We walked to the fellowship, in silence. I sat down beside Tasha who looked so relieved to finally see me walking around and hitting things again.

I was in the middle of biting into a piece of lembas when another elf barges in and tells us that the Lady wanted to talk to me and Tasha.

"The Lady wishes to speak to you." He told us in a superior way. Tasha nodded and pulled me up. I stepped over the seat I was in and tripped.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as Legolas picked me up.

"Thanks." I muttered, and followed Tasha.

….

Holy feck, she's gorgeous. I mean… whoa… _this_ is Galadriel? Wow, does she know that she's glowing? I should ask...

But then again, it might be considered rude…

What the hey!

"Hey, did you know you're glowing?" I asked her in a would-be-offhand voice. But instead, it came out sounding psychotically weird… how do I do that?

She just stared at me as if I were some dodo bird dancing on its head… disturbing…

**Tasha**

So _this_ is the Lady of the Wood…

Interesting...

She looks like she's always in on something… like she always has some sort of secret… sorta like the Mona Lisa really…

"Sit down ladies." She said motioning towards the chairs. "I have much to discuss with you."

We sat down and said nothing, waiting for Galadriel to explain. She sat down, her glowing frame becoming brighter against the dark wood of the chair she sat in.

I scanned the glade and noticed something moving in a corner. It was climbing up a tree. Legolas? What is he doing here?

"You are from another world are you not?" she asked us. We nodded, waiting for her to continue. "You were brought here by an ancient magic, but to what purpose I do not know."

"So… if we were brought here by an ancient magic… then you can get us back right?" Sam asked expectantly.

Galadriel sighed, downcast. That _cannot_ be a good sign.

"Alas, this form of magic can only be accomplished once. And for one person only."

Sam and I looked at each other.

Did she mean what I thought she meant?

"Forgive me, but there is naught that I can do. You must decide… which one of you shall go back to your world?"

No, she can't mean that.

No way!

Sam and I are best friends! We could _never _leave each other.

**Sam**

I walked back to the fellowship distraught. I could hear Galadriel's words echoing in my mind.

"Tash?" I said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you go ahead?" I told her. "I'll just walk around for a bit."

"You'll get lost Sam." She told me.

Oh great, even she doesn't trust me. "I'll be fine." I tell her with a gin. "If I get lost I'll just ask one of the sentinel thingies to tell me where to go."

She nodded and walked off. Doesn't look too convinced though… ok so I have a huge dilemma to work with…

Where's a clearing when you need one?

Seriously, I need to think. I feel like I'm going to explode.

…

I sat down on the riverbank and stared at the water.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists against the grass.

I can't even begin to imagine what my life would be like without my best friend.

I opened my eyes surprised that my face was wet. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I sprawled down on the grass and stared at the darkening sky.

…

I woke up to the rain pounding on my body. Drenched to the bone, I stood up and slowly made my way to the place where I thought the fellowship would be located.

I've made my decision. And Tasha's just gonna have to accept it.

But I think I'm gonna have to find her first…

Oh crap…

Of all the times to be fucking lost!

Shit! Shittedy, Shittedy, Shittedy, shit!

I'm drenched and I'm cold! Aren't there any sentinels around here?

Apparently not.

I dropped down on the watery ground and let the rain pound against my shoulders. I let the tears flow freely with the rainwater, down my face.

I can't do this. If I go, I'll never ever see my best friend again…

What's a girl to do?

**A/n: what _is_ a girl to do? Wanna find out? Wanna know if she's gonna stay or leave? Wanna find out which girl will go back? Then submit me a review! It isn't really that hard… after all… you just click the purple button down there… see? Ok, so leave me a review! Ta, I'm off to the halls of Mandos!**

**Review responses: **

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	7. SS PRT2: farewell firefly

A/n: wooh! I'm spazzing out again. I think… too much chocolate and soda does not do me any good. It makes me all hyper! And now the sugar rush is deflating… aww… and there's no more choco in the house! So anyways, before I totally lose it, here's your next chappie…

Sam 

"It isn't fair! We didn't even ask for any of this! Why do I have to part with my best friend? WHY? Give me a fucking reason!" I screamed at the rainy heavens.

"Whoever you are calling, he won't answer you." Said a haughty voice.

I turned around to see Haldir the march warden sitting in a tree.

Bloody wonderful.

"What do you want?" I asked him closing my eyes.

"What is it that troubles you so?" he asked climbing down the tree and sitting next to me in the rain.

"Don't you have to be defending the borders right now, o march warden?" I asked silkily.

"N'uma. Keeping you company will do for now."

I rolled my eyes and turned aside.

"Will you not tell me your woes? Perhaps I might be of help."

"Not unless you have enough magical powers to send us both back." I mumbled into the grass.

"Perhaps you would like to explain yourself."

"Not likely." I told him.

I heard him heave a sigh. Gosh, do I really wear people's patience out that quickly? He leaned back heavily on the ground.

Guess I do.

"You come from a distant land I am told. And the only way for you to return is through the Lady's power. But it is not enough and only one of you may return. And now you are confused. You do not know which of you should return. Am I correct?"

"If you knew all along, why did you have to ask?"

He didn't answer me. He just lay there in silence as the ever-pouring rain drenched us even more.

Dear god, I'm gong to catch my death of colds like this. Haldir doesn't have a problem. He's an elf and elves don't get sick do they?

If you said yes, ding ding ding! We have a winner!

But then again, you could put a dozen napoleons in front of me and I still wouldn't care.

My best friend is more important than a bunch of monkeys.

"Every cloud has a silver lining Sam. And every creature has a purpose." Haldir told me.

NOW WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

TASHA 

I told Sam she'd just get lost! Now it's raining cats and dogs and she's still nowhere in sight.

"Troubled?" Boromir asked standing next to me.

"A little." I answered.

"Do not be. Lord Aragorn has assured me that this is a safe realm. We will be alright."

I nodded and gave him a small smile. I sat down on an empty seat next to Legolas and stared at the table.

I am so torn right now. On the one hand, I'm in Middle Earth. The world I could only dream of. And I'm here with Sam, my best friend. And on the other hand, there was my family. And my school, my dreams of becoming a model. Could I really trade all that I've believed was real, in exchange for a fantasy world?

And what of Sam? Only one of us can go. And if I do, that means Sam will get left behind. Can I really part with my best friend? Sam's been like a sister to me. Abandoning such a friendship would be unthinkable…

Two very wet heads suddenly popped up into our talan.

"Heya!" Sam greeted cheerfully. She jumped up into the flooring and sat next to me, squeezing herself between Legolas and me.

She started talking in a very hyper voice. "Hey Tasha, I think I saw Napoleon in one of the trees. Do you think she's here? Coz I swear I saw a brown tail swishing in a mallorn tree over at Gala's glade. Maybe she's here. Wouldn't that be great Tash? Don't you think so? Huh? Huh? What do you think?""

Uhmm…

"Haldir?" I asked the march warden who was now in the process of wiping himself with a towel. He turned to me.

"Uma min arwen?" he asked lapsing into elvish. I stared blankly at him.

"Oh, I beg your pardon. What was it?" he said apologetically after seeing my blank face.

"Did Sam eat anything while she was with you?" I asked. Wait… "She was with you right?"

The blonde elf nodded. "She did eat something. A brightly wrapped brown thing. I think she called it a…"

Oh dear god. "A chocolate bar?" I asked.

"Oh, Yes."

"How many did she eat?" I asked fearfully, looking at Sam who had a dazed smile on her face.

"About six I believe."

I rubbed my head wearily. Shit, hyper, scary…

Ok I think it's my turn to go run off… A hyper Samantha is not high on my priority list.

Dear God, she thinks she's the Easter bunny.

HEEELPPP!

….

Ok, after two hours in which Sam drove us crazy, we have finally managed to calm her down.

Yes. It does involve a chair and a good length of rope. How'd you guess?

Yes, yes and a good bit of gagging material as well.

I walked by to the window and sat down. The rain was lessening and a breeze stirred outside.

"Lady Natasha, may I ask you something?" Legolas said walking over to me.

"Sure, shoot." I said trying my best to be cheerful.

"Would it be possible for you to teach me about your friend?" he asked blushing.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, In all honesty, I do not understand her. She is strange in my eyes. You come from a distant land do you not? Perhaps that is why I find it difficult to understand your strange ways." He explained.

I nodded in understanding. That's sweet. He wants to get to know her sordid mannerisms. Well… it'll give me something to occupy myself with.

"So you want me to teach you all about Sam?"

He nodded. I smiled at him.

"Meet me by the river after 5 minutes." I said standing up. I climbed down the talan and dropped down onto the soft green grass.

The rain had stopped, leaving the scent of wet grass lingering around.

I sat down on a rock and watched the river Silverlode flow by.

The sound of footsteps told me that Legolas had arrived.

"He-" I began cheerfully, but I was cut short when I saw that it wasn't Legolas who was there, it was Sam.

Uh-oh… I'm getting a horrible sense of foreboding here…

Sam 

"Hey." I greeted Tasha. Ok, I know I must have been totally hyper but did they really have to tie me to a chair?

I mean, really.

"Hi." She greeted. "What's up?"

Oh shit. I almost forgot what I came here for. I sat down beside her, sweeping my hair from my face.

"We-we have to talk." I told her.

"Oh, about what?"

"About that trip back home." I said quickly, as if it'd be less of a problem if it came out fast.

The smile on Tasha's face had slipped by now and was replaced by a look of extreme confusion.

"But Sam, what about you?" she asked after what seemed like an eternity.

I sighed.

"Look, I know how hard this is. God, I think this is just about the hardest thing I've ever done. But see, I haven't got anything left in that world. Not really… I mean sure there's Daddy but that's it." I said begging the tears not to flow. This is not the time for Tasha to see me crying.

"But you Tash… you've got your family back home. I know you miss them. And besides, college is just around the corner… you have so much to go back to. Cheerleading… that internship Daddy offered you…" I trailed off biting my lip.

"Sam… I can't just leave you… I-I can't"

"No. You can. My mind's made up. You're going to go back." I told her firmly.

"This isn't about your decisions Sam. This isn't one of those redeemable situations we used to find ourselves in! If I go, there's no turning back! We can never see each other again!" she shouted angrily at me.

"Don't you want to see your family again?" I asked.

"I do."

"Then what the fuck is the problem! I'm giving you the chance to do so! Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I will never see my father again! And you… I'll never see you again either… but it doesn't matter… It doesn't matter if I get hurt. I'll be happy just knowing that one day… you'll become a fabulous model… just like you've always dreamt to be… I want you to have our world." I told her tears now pouring down my cheeks.

So much for begging. The little men in lab coats up in my brain are asking for a raise.

"Sam… I don't know what to say. I don't want to leave you. You're my best friend." Tasha began, not bothering to wipe away her tears.

"But you miss your family. I know. Which is why you have to say you'll go back. Please?"

she smiled and nodded through her tears. She stood up from her seat and engulfed me in a hug.

"You have to promise me two things." I told her.

"What?' she asked pulling back.

"Take care of Daddy ok? The old man needs it. Tell him I just need some time to get to know myself and maybe someday I'll come back." I requested.

"anything else?"

"Yeah." I answered hugging her. "Don't forget your best friend, when you get back." I whispered in her ear.

I felt her arms tighten around me and we sobbed, just holding each other.

Tasha 

Well… it looks like I'm going home. Poor Sam… I can't imagine how hard this decision was for her. She'll never see her dad again, and these last few days will be the last we ever spend together.

I wanna do something for her. Something that I know will make her happy.

What to do… what to do…

"Lady Natasha," came a voice from behind me. I turned around to see Legolas looking expectantly at me.

I'VE GOT IT!

Oh, this is absolutely perfect! My last act in Middle Earth shall be to:

Play MATCHMAKER!

I think my grin is becoming too psychotic because Legolas is staring weirdly at me.

"So, what do you want to know?" I asked him sitting down on the grass.

"Everything. When was she born, where? What are her interests? Has she ever been in love before? Everything."

Hmm…

"Well… her name is Samantha Marie Richards. She's eighteen years old… born in Los Angeles California. She enjoys reading books, art, elements of torture, the dark, cooking, chocolate, writing, history, plants, and handicrafts. She's the best in our year in almost all the subjects except P.E. she's extremely smart. She's got a photographic memory; she's a horrible dancer. A good singer. Lousy at public relations; has a fascination with monkeys; and a great lover of black and anything dark and gothic."

Yup that sums her up in as few words as possible.

Legolas looked at me blankly before bursting into question again.

"What is P.E.?"

"A subject that deals with a person's bodily skills. Archery is classified as a sport in our world. So that can be in the class."

"I see. And what is a photographic memory?"

"Oh. It's a special ability that very few people are born with. It's the ability to memorize, or to remember something just from a short glimpse." He looked confused so I was forced to elaborate.

"I'll give you an example. Let's say you're reading a book, you look through the books but you don't read it. Of course you won't be able to tell me what is in it, as you didn't read it. Am I right?" he nodded.

"A person with a photographic memory can tell you what is in the book, word for word just by a short glimpse."

He let out an "Ahh…" of understanding and proceeded to his next question. "What do you mean she is lousy at err—public relations?"

I let out a laugh at this. "Oh. You see, there was this one time at our school when she was asked to give a speech in one of the programs and… let's just say it wasn't pretty."

"How so?"

Nosy little bugger of an elf.

"Um... well she was so nervous, she fainted and when she woke up, she vomited all over one of the guest's head."

He winced at that. I told you it wouldn't be pretty.

"What are monkeys?"

"Oh. Monkeys are a kind of animal. They're small brown and furry and make screeching noises. Sam likes them. One time, she found a female monkey wandering in the streets of our town, and took it home to take care of it. She's like the Monkey wrangler. She trained it enough to dance around, and it even comes to her when she calls it. Do you remember, in the mines? When she woke up and was screaming something like 'napoleon, come back!' that was the name of the monkey. Napoleon."

He laughed genuinely at that. As if it was absurd to name any feminine being Napoleon.

"You have not answered my other question." He said smiling.

"What question is that?" I asked.

"Has Sam ever been in love before?"

I thought on the question before answering. "Yeah, a few times actually."

I pitied the crestfallen look on his face as he struggled to ask his question. "So there is someone awaiting her… back in your world?"

"No. There used to be. Sam's love life isn't exactly what you'd say smooth. It's quite bumpy actually."

I looked at his face for a reaction, there was none.

"See, she always seems to fall for the wrong guy. Her first boyfriend was in our sophomore year. The guy was a quarterback. A senior. He cheated on her for a cheerleader. The next one turned out to be gay. A man who wants to be a woman. The third turned out to be engaged. And the last one…"

"The last one?" he urged.

"We all thought that this guy was perfect. His name was Arthur Perry. He had the looks of the kindest elf. He was kind, charming, smart and friendly. We all thought that Sam had found the perfect guy who would take care of her. We were all wrong. It turns out that Arthur was a deranged psychopath. He tried to rape Sam on our spring formal." I took a deep breath as all the memories surfaced.

I could hear Sam's screaming when we found her on the ground with Arthur, holding a knife, on top of her.

All the anger, and horror of that night came rushing back.

"And he would have succeeded too if I hadn't looked for her. If I hadn't, Sam wouldn't be here. She'd be dead. That prick would've murdered her on the spot and ran for it."

"Where is he now?" Legolas asked, his face a mask of blankness. I looked at his hands and saw that his hands were clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

"He was sent to an institution. A sort of guarding place where he's locked away. All through out that ordeal, there was one person who knew about Arthur's psychological problems, and she didn't tell us."

"What? Do you mean to say that they actually hoped that it would happen?" Legolas asked incredulously.

I nodded. "Her name is Carmi Ann Morgan. The biggest bitch to ever walk in the halls of our high school. She was Arthur's cousin. And she's Sam's worst enemy."

"Enemy? But why?"

"she used to be our friend. Until she became a lying sack of dragon shit. She was jealous of Sam because she was smart and everything she wasn't. so she hoped to get rid of her that night, with Arthur. Nobody knew he was her cousin. They hardly even seemed to know each other. There was even a verbal war between Carmi and Sam once. Needless to say, Sam won. She may not be good at speeches, but she has some kick-ass comebacks. That twat was never a threat."

Legolas listened carefully and understandingly. he absorbed every detail that I let out. If all audiences could be like Legolas I might do politics instead.

Nah, I can't rely on that.

Dear merciful GOD!

"HALDIR!" I shrieked at the figure lurking behind the trees.

Oh, no… he didn't…

"Amin Hiraetha." Said to Legolas.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He says that he is sorry. He did not mean to eavesdrop." Legolas translated.

Shit. Sam's gonna kill me.

Pippin 

"Pippin?" came a voice from behind me. I turned around to see Natasha.

She's one of the girls who dropped down from the sky while we were still at the foot of Caradhras, and a few days from Hollin. She's a bit more friendly and talkative than Sam.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Have you seen Sam?" she asked looking around.

"No. Do you want me to go find her?" I answered.

"Oh, no. It's fine." She said, smiling at me. I shrugged and picked up an apple from the table. I'm going to go find her anyway; I need to exercise my legs.

I climbed down the talan and began my search.

I found her near the river, hidden behind the bushes. Her back was to me and she was sitting on the ground.

"Sam? Are you alright?" I asked, cautiously approaching her. Her black hair glinted in the gleam of the setting sun, and her shoulders heaved slightly.

She shot up, startled and turned towards me.

"Pippin? Is that you? W-what are you doing here?" she asked shakily.

I walked towards her and sat down.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked.

"No." she answered shaking her head. "Everything's fine."

"We hobbits aren't as watchful as you think you know. We can see a lot more than we let on." I told her, splashing my feet in the cold water of the river.

"I didn't mean anything by what I said Pippin. I'm just going through a lot right now." She said apologetically.

Sam's a nice girl. She's a bit on the quiet side though, but she speaks when spoken to.

"Perhaps I can be of help. I may be young but I'm not dim." I said jokingly.

She didn't answer me and I thought that perhaps, I had said something out of turn.

"No offence pippin… but… I don't want to talk about my problem. It still hurts too much." She said sadly.

I stayed silent. She put her arm around me, an unspoken understanding passing between us. She would tell me when she was ready.

"Now, how about dinner?" she asked lightly, standing up.

"Wonderful. I'm starving." I said following her lead.

We went to the dining room, just as the bell sounded, and the feast was served.

Sam 

Well… it's finally come.

The day when Tasha and I have to part forever…

We've spent the last few days talking and bonding. She's taking a lot of my stuff back with her. Some of the poetry, and other stuff…

I've got a letter to my dad that she's going to give.

A few of my shorter skirts are hers now too.

"My ladies, the Lady awaits you." Said a blonde-haired elleth from the door.

Uhm… when did she knock?

Jeez… I must've really tuned out.

I stood up and followed Tasha out of the room.

When we reached the glade, Galadriel stood alone, in her immaculate white dress.

"Mae govannen ladies." She greeted. "We must proceed at once. I trust that you have said all your goodbyes before hand?"

We both nodded.

"Very well. Which one of you is to return?" she asked.

Tasha stepped forward.

"Tash, wait. I have to give you one last thing." I said placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What is it Sam?" she asked turning to me, her eyes already glistening.

I handed her a one of my recorders.

She thanked me and gave me one last parting hug.

I turned around and put a hand across my mouth to muffle my sobs. Tasha and I had had an agreement that, on the day of her departure, I could turn around. As in, I didn't have to see her as she left.

"Goodbye Sam. You'll always be my best friend." She called out just as the white light around her spread throughout the clearing.

My body was racked with sobs as I turned around, expecting to see the spot beside Galadriel empty and bare.

My eyes grew wide as I saw a figure with long brown hair streaked with pink, standing in the spot where my best friend used to be.

I squinted against the still bright light.

Shit.

I recognize that hair.

I recognize that 4 ft. 5 in. body.

I know who that is.

My eyes grew, if possible, even wider as I realized who it was.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Oh, holy hell

HOLY HELL OF HELLS!

I can faint now…

Any day now little white men…

Damn you!

You're angling for a pay raise aren't you?

**A/n: wooh… that was weird… dear merciful god on a stick! I reached twelve pages on word! (does a little jig) wooh-hoo! Uh-huh! I'm good! I'm good! It's my birthday! It's my birthday! And my name is Mr.!**

**I AM NOT GAY!**

**Ok, that was random. Anyways, please send me reviews!**

**Or else my ponkeys, and menguins will attack the shitty fucks out of your asses until you cry.**

**To find out more about the afore mentioned creatures, send me a review. Tank you.**

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**OK… REVIEW RESPONSES:**

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**See ya in the next chappie!**

**Shadow08 c",)**


	8. Resonance

A/n: hallooo! Ok, so before we begin, I'd just like to ask if anybody wanted one last drabble in Tasha's point of view in the next chappie, just to find out what it's like being back home without Sam and how everything else works out. So, waddya think? Should I, or shouldn't I include it? Your call. Anyways, I shall not keep you from your ficcie! Here ya go, I own nothing except the OC's. thank you. Oh and the plot… basically.

Chapter 8: Resonance… 

**Sam**

The brown haired girl turned to face me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as one continuous phrase continued to run through my head.

Fuck, fuckitty, fuckitty, fuck….

Please let it not be who I think it is… please god…

The girl whirled around to face me. Every inch of her freckled face and cold blue eyes coming at me with a slap in the face.

God must really hate me…

"What are _you_ doing here?" she asked me viciously.

Woah there terminator. You don't own the place, and I refuse to answer any questions unless I have a lawyer or Vanyar present.

Oopsie… I have once again lost control of my vocal functions…

If this were anyone else but Carmi I'd be utterly embarrassed but since it is her, I don't give a shit.

Ooh, I'm good! She can never win a verbal battle against MOI!

She's a self-centered little twat!

"Answer my question, Samantha Marie Richards!" she screamed fuming.

Uhmmm… how about no?

Gala? Now would be a good time to intervene, before I get a hold of a pointy object and use it to skin Carmi alive.

Galadriel cleared her throat. I knew her mind-reading powers could come in handy.

"Who are _you_?" she asked turning to face the Lady of the Wood.

Learn some manners you stupid cow.

Gala threw me a reproachful look.

Whoopsie!

"Mae govannen my lady. Welcome to the woods of Lothlorien, might I ask who you are?"

I don't have to deal with this right now. It's too much.

I turned around, took a deep breath and walked off. Making sure, that I walked erect and properly.

Once I was sure I was far away from the glade, I wrapped my arms around myself and succumbed to the tears.

I curled up underneath a large tree, my presence obscured by the bushes, only to be given away by the sobs I emitted.

Yup, I'm not going anywhere just yet.

**Legolas**

I walked around, searching quietly for Sam.

Where is she?

I walked over to a clump of trees and heard voices. A male and a female.

"My lady? What is the matter? Why are you in tears?" a familiar voice asked.

That voice… I know that voice… who is that?

I took a peep around the tree, which secluded me from view, to see who these people were.

Haldir…Haldir and Sam…

"I-I thought I could handle it. I didn't kn-know it w-would hurt so bloody badly. I al-already fucking miss her. She's only been gone f-for t-ten bloody m-minutes and I already m-miss her. I f-feel so fucking _helpless_! And I _hate_ it! I can't stand feeling so helpless because I know that no matter how hard I try, no matter what, it won't change anything. It can't bring Tasha back. It's so hard to embrace the fact that my best friend's gone, and I'm never _ever_ going to see her again." Sam sobbed, her voice filled with pain and loneliness.

I climbed the branches as quietly as I could. Sam sat on the grass, hugging her knees to her chest sobbing uncontrollably. Haldir sat beside her, an arm around her shoulders.

"Everything shall be well." Haldir murmured into her hair. "You shall be fine. I know you will."

…

Sam's fallen asleep.

"You may reveal yourself, Legolas." Haldir called, standing over Sam's sleeping form.

I dropped down from the tree with the grace only elves possess.

"What happened?" I asked leaning to brush Sam's dark locks from her pale face.

"She has just lost her dearest friend. Lady Natasha, she has gone back to her world. They're very close it seems. Like sisters. I can only imagine what loneliness she feels right now."

I nodded solemnly, stroking Sam's pale cheek.

Why is it, that I always seem to have you on my mind?

That I always seem so restless when I can't see you?

I fear for your safety and long to make your life as happy as possible.

Is it brotherly affection perhaps?

"Confused, Legolas?" Haldir asked, suddenly interrupting my thoughts.

"_Mani_?" I asked, lapsing into elvish.

He laughed and gently stroked Sam's hair.

I frowned in confusion.

"Will you carry her back to the talans or shall I?" he asked me, a mischievous glint evident in his eyes.

"I will do it." I answer willingly. He nods and smiles.

"I must go now. _Tenna 'ento lye omenta._" He said, bowing his head and stepping out of the clearing.

I shook my head and let out a weary sigh. Haldir and his stupid mind games.

I picked Sam's sleeping form from the ground and brought her back to the talan.

Her clothes were already stained by dirt, from sleeping on the ground.

I think, jeans are what Tasha called it.

I set her down on the bed, and brushed her hair away from her face.

I sat down, closing my eyes to think.

When it comes right down to it, what do I even feel about this girl?

** Sam **

Ohh, where am I?

Why is it so dark?

Oh, silly me I forgot to open my eyes.

Dearie me, I have some serious issues.

I opened my eyes a crack and peered at my surroundings.

Hmm… what am I doing in a talan? I fully recall falling asleep in tears in a very muddy and leafy environment next to Haldir who looked very stoic. But hey, that's just me. And therefore, leads me back to the question of: HOW IN BLOODY HELL DID I GET HERE?

I sat up, pissed that no one had even bothered to answer the questions in my brain.

HMPH!

I examined my surroundings more closely and was surprised to see Legolas sitting in a chair beside the window.

Sigh…

He looked immaculate. His face was buried in his hands and the slowly setting sun cast it's golden rays to frame his muscular built and to play softly at his golden hair.

Somebody move that bucket of drool please…

ACK! I have said this before and I shall say it again! Knees, I command you to _stay_ solid!

Damn you stupid little men in white!

I already gave you a raise last month!

Oh well, it's a hopeless case really…

I pulled my knees closer to me and softly said, "Penny for your thoughts…"

He looked up, his azure eyes making me want to melt. But no, I am _not_ dripping _at all_!

He smiled at me and pulled his chair closer. Uhmm… yikes?

"Lle tyava quel?" he asked me in elvish.

Or at least it sounded like a question… oh poopie…

"Huh?" I squeaked confused.

"Oh, do you feel well?" he translated.

I nodded. "Yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged.

Oooh, I didn't know elves shrugged!

Ok, yeah I am absolutely bloody barmy!

Moving on…

"What happened?" he asked.

I frowned. What happened where? What's he talking about?

Oh… oh-oh-oh… I get it… he knows…

Damn you Haldir!

I didn't tell anyone in the fellowship except for the hobbits, because I didn't _want_ them asking these questions.

"Haldir told you didn't he?" I asked not looking at him.

"No. Lady Natasha did." He stated calmly.

"Oh." Oopsie?

"Will you not answer me?" he asked after a long while of silence.

"I…" oh shit… I'm gonna start crying again aren't I? NO. I _refuse_ to let him see me like that. "I miss her."

He stares at me with those blue eyes so filled with genuine concern, that I feel the waterworks begin to flow. I am such a sap.

And I need to get a brand new crew of little men,

"She hasn't been gone for very long but I already miss her. And I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. I want to scream and scream until my throat is raw and bloody. I miss my world. All the little things, like the gadgetry and the food and sometimes even the noise. But most of all, I miss my dad."

He put an arm around me as I gulped down a fresh batch of tears.

"And of course, everything wouldn't be complete without the cherry on top of the cake." I said smiling bitterly. "The last person in the world I would want to see right now just arrived by mail-order."

He stared at me his blue eyes filled with the utmost confusion.

"Carmi. My absolute worst enemy, just came in place of Tasha to bite me in the ass."

Legolas winced at my words and I sighed, lowering my head.

Suddenly, Legolas pulled me closer.

Hmm… he smells good.

Ok, bad thoughts!

"Rest." He whispered in my ear. "All shall be well, I promise."

I buried my head in his chest, not really sure if I believed him. But what the hey.

I closed my eyes, allowing the darkness to comfortable settle in.

** Aragorn **

"Vedui, Legolas." I greeted my friend, who was sitting beside Sam's sleeping form.

"Vedui." He answered, not tearing his eyes from the maiden in front of him.

"We must be leaving soon, we cannot tarry." I said, pulling up a chair.

Legolas nodded his head in agreement. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. I have known Legolas for a long time, and during that time he has been with many different elleths. But none of them were able to kindle that spark in his eye. But Sam has done so, and my dear friend may not realize it yet, but he is in love.

I think he is still on the stage of trying to sort it all out. I do not doubt that he will, but I do doubt that he will tell her. My heart tells me that he my be afraid of falling in love with a mortal woman.

Arwen…

Amin mela lle… but it cannot be so. Arda is no longer safe. Our love was but a dream, nothing more. It would be better if she sailed off to the Undying Lands, with nothing but the memory of our love.

"You are thinking of her, are you not?" Legolas asked suddenly. I opened my eyes to look at him, he still had not torn his gaze from Sam's face.

"Yes. As surely as you are thinking of her." I said mischievously.

"Who?" he asked confused. I laughed and quirked my head towards the direction of the sleeping Sam. His eyes went wide and he shook his head vehemently.

"Nay, I do not see her in that way." He said blushing.

I shook my head, I do not believe it is so. I clapped him on the shoulder and stood it up. I have many counters to the statement he has just uttered. But I believe I shall keep it to myself. He shall figure it out soon enough.

** Sam **

I am gonna KILL Galadriel.

The bloody woman, elleth, _thing_ has gone absolutely bloody barmy. Not only did she send her ladies to wake me up BEFORE 12 on a fecking weekend, she also put me in a bloody dress!

I effing hate dresses! I stay as far away from skirts as humanly possible. And just when I was thinking I had escaped dresses altogether she forces it on me.

Bleeding hell!

Yes, I have now come to the conclusion that Galadriel is as vindictive as my mother is when it comes to thinking up insane ways to force me to become… gulp… dare I say it? Feminine…

Sucks to be me don't it?

And oh yeah there's also the business of Carmi to attend to… she's a bloody sodding cow if you ask my opinion. But hey, as long as she stays here I'll be fine.

But no, of course, this is me we're talking about. The forces of the universe _never _contend with my will. Something about being destined to become an earwig or a cockroach sometime in my next life…

Anyway, Carmi will always have to be a bloody massive thorn in my side won't she?

I hate my life…

Yes, I am currently holed up in some random room… probably a male's considering the fact that there is armor and weapons in here…

Whatever…

I'm hiding from Gala's ladies. They want to dress me up… which I responded to by running as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I can vaguely recall another time with Tasha wherein I did a similar thing… though I can't really remember when...

Oh I get it!

That was before Spring Fling! I hated that night… worst night of my life possibly…

But whatever, I have to cop it… someone is coming in…

"Sam?" a voice asked. I turned around to see the owner of the room. Ooh, no wonder there were weapons, this is Aragorn's room.

"Er… hi?" I said raising a hand and smiling innocently.

Yup that's a great tip… always play innocent.

"What are you doing here?" he asked looking at me like I've sprouted another head. I resisted the urge to feel my neck, just to check.

What does it look like I'm doing Einstein? Of course, I can tell that he's probably thinking that I'm some deranged psychopathic maniac because I was staring at the pointy objects on one of the tables when he came in… what? They were pretty and shiny… oh, and that fact that I look like I just escaped from the psycho ward probably doesn't help any either…

I walked over to close the door, which he had left open.

"Shh…" I hissed. "I'm hiding."

He raised an eyebrow. "From whom?"

From the Easter bunny, who do you think?

"From Galadriel's Ladies."

"why?" he asked amused.

"Because they have it in for me."

He laughed at me and lay down on the bed. "Ah, That would explain the elleths wandering about. They are searching high and low for you."

I made a swishy hand gesture. "Let them boil their heads. I am not going anywhere with them. I refuse to be turned into a," I made a quotation mark hand gesture. " 'lady' "

He was laughing with amusement at my sordid views, sod him.

I looked at him and paused, hmm.. something's different.

I jumped onto the bed and examined his hair.

"Did you bathe?" I asked surprised.

He blinked at me. "Yes Sam, I did."

Wow, look at him… he's actually a man… the hair that usually didn't even move due to the dirt and grime is now all clean and shiny…

It's beautiful. They actually became human beings.

….

CRAP! They've found me!

"Lady Samantha!" screamed about five elleths, throwing the door open.

Shit…

"Uhmm… hi?" I said looking around for an escape route.

Too late…

"Aragorn!" I squeaked. He merely shrugged and laughed at my god- awful predicament.

TRAITOR!

….

I hate my life.

Everyone would do well to stay out of my way.

WARNING: Sam is not a happy chappy, stay out of her way if you want to keep your guts and bowels in their rightful place.

Yep, that'd do.

Why did Gala have to have a ball now of all times anyway?

That woman is absolutely troppo I tell you.

I sat down under a tree stump as the people around me enjoyed the festivities.

If I didn't know Gala would kill me I would have pulled up the damn skirt and tramped around in mud just for the hell of it.

Hey, I've done it to my mom… she wasn't too happy about that let me tell you.

Luckily none of the people have seen me yet… I'm considering hiding out here for the remainder of the ball…

"Samantha," called a voice from around my tree stump.

SHIT!

"Uhmm… err… hiya…" I said standing up.

"What are you doing back there?" Pippin asked walking up to me.

"Uhmm… hiding?" I asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why, may I ask would you be hiding?" he asked eyebrows raised, and arms folded across his chest.

If he didn't look so damn cute and huggable, I would have smacked him one across the head.

Stupid sodding hobbits and their stupid sodding huggability!

"Shh, be quiet." I said pulling him down next to me. " I hate these stuffy balls. They're the Old World equivalent of the parties my Mother throws back home. Believe me when I say that you'd be bored to tears."

"Ah, but you've never been to an Elves' ball have you?" he asked me.

I shook my head. I'm gonna lose this argument aren't I?

"I give up Pip." I said sighing heavily. Pippin looked at me confused. This time I did smack him upside the head.

"What was that for?" he asked rubbing the spot, and looking at me angrily.

"For being so damn cute and huggable." I told him standing up. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I shrugged it off. Hey, I am crazy so there's no harm done.

I stood up and brushed the grass off of my skirt.

Luckily, my dress is still relatively acceptable for me. It's a black dress, thank heavens.

With long sleeves that flared out at the ends. Yeah let's get this over with.

Gimli, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas will never let me live this down.

Sod it!

"By the Valar, she looks like a Lady!" I hear a voice say from behind me.

I turn around and see Haldir grinning at me.

I glared darkly at him and muttered, "Piss off Hal."

"Peace Sam," he said grinning at me.

"You be fucking peaceful!" I said annoyed. His grin became broader and he pulled me towards him.

"You look lovely little one, just lovely." He whispered in my ear.

I sodding hate elves! Ugh!

** Legolas **

I walked around the elves gathered around the glade. Everyone was still mingling, waiting for the Lord and Lady to appear. I scanned the crowd looking for my friends.

I saw Aragorn and Boromir off to the side, wine goblets in hand, drinking merrily.

The hobbits were seated around a table, flagons in front of them.

Ah, and there is my dwarven companion, off to join the little ones in their drinking escapade.

But where is Sam?

My eyes searched for the glint if raven hair amongst the crowd.

Where is she?

Has something happened to her?

I have not seen her since this morning. I walked over to Aragorn and Boromir to engage in a bit of conversation and to perhaps find the whereabouts of our fair female friend.

"Mae govannen." I greeted. They nodded their heads in answer.

"Have you seen my sister?" Boromir asked looking around.

"Nay, neither head nor tail of her." I answered shaking my head.

He looked around trying to catch a glimpse of Samantha.

"Ah, there she is!" he said exuberantly.

Aragorn and I both turned to the direction Boromir was pointing at and indeed there was Sam.

She was sitting with Haldir and the hobbits.

It seems she has been spending a great deal of time with the March warden.

"Come Legolas," Aragorn said gesturing to the direction of the hobbits. " Let us join them."

** Sam **

Hal and I sat down on the table with the hobbits and Gimli.

"Merry, Gimli if you do not stop staring at me right now, I will crack your bloody skulls open using my tankard." I threatened grasping said item tightly.

That got 'em.

Assholes.

"Sorry Samantha it's just… we're not used to it."

"Yeah? Join the club." I said annoyed.

If Gala doesn't show up soon, I will hightail it back up to my room and cop it.

"Peace Master Meriadoc." Haldir said holding up a hand. "Our female friend here is just going through a difficult time."

I snorted into my tankard. Well wasn't that just the biggest euphemism ever?

"Difficult time Hal? I'm pissed is what I am! If I honestly hear another crack at the way I'm sodding dressed to tonight, I will no longer be held responsible for my actions!" I said glaring at all the men at the table.

"Would you like a bit of cake Sam?" Pippin asked me, those big blue eyes wide and a smile on his face.

"Ohh, yes please!" I said clapping my hands gaily. The stinking hobbit knew right where my soft spot was and he was playing to it.

Smart hobbit.

Pippin went off to get me a spot of cake and we were all left to our own devices.

By that I mean the other three started drinking with Gimli and Hal remained as stoic as ever.

Sodding bloody march warden. Thinks the whole bloody world is one sick joke and it's at everybody's expense but his. Either that or he just doesn't give a shit. Or maybe he does and just has his own way of showing it.

Psycho.

Yeah, I told you, I have issues.

"Ah, you're brother is here." Haldir told me.

Ah shit, I'm dead.

"Sam, there you are!" Boromir greeted. Turns out he's dragged traitor beard and old twinkle toes over here as well.

Yes, by that I mean Aragorn and Legolas.

Bollocks!

"Sweet Eru, is that you dear sister?" Boromir teased.

"Aye, turns out there _was_ a lady in there eh, laddie?" Gimli added, eyes twinkling.

"Aye master dwarf, it would seem so." Aragorn said joining in.

I rolled my eyes and stood up.

"Peace Sam, they are only teasing." Legolas said putting a hand on my shoulder and smiling.

"Got another crack about my dress twinkle toes?" I said sitting back down.

"Twinkle toes?" he repeated.

"Ah, never mind. Just sit down, shut up and be merry. And if I hear another comment about me being dressed like this, I'll personally ensure that you can no longer reproduce in the future. Capiche?" I threatened looking around the table.

They all nodded, not doubting my skills when pissed.

Arsewipes.

"Mae govannen." Celeborn greeted. "I take it you are enjoying yourselves?"

We all stood up and bowed to the elf lord.

"We are my lord." Frodo answered. "Thank you."

Uhmm… I'm just curious… but when did they get here?

"Ah, Sam." He said turning to me. "Walk with me, if you please, I wish to speak with you."

Ah, feck. What kind of trouble did I land myself in now?

I stood up and smoothed the skirt of my dress.

The stately elf lord led the way to a place away from all the people and noise.

I stayed a good five steps away from him.

Hey, you can't blame me. What would _you_ do if a big studly elf lord seeks you out to talk?

And yes, before you ask, Celeborn _is_ studly.

Moving on…

"So my dear, enjoying the ball?' he asked me.

"Uh… of course. It's wonderful." I said trying hard not to stutter.

He laughed at me discomfort.

"Peace child." He said holding up his hands. "I was merely teasing."

Ok, what is it with elves tonight?

It's either their teasing you or confusing you.

Why can't they just make up their minds and be either as silly and light-hearted as a hobbit or be as cryptic as hell just like elves are supposed to be?

"About the girl," he continued sitting down on a chair.

I looked around and saw to my surprise that we were in Galadriel's glade again.

"What about her My Lord?" I asked politely.

"She will have to accompany you." He told me gently as if he wanted to stop her but couldn't.

I sighed. I told you she's always gonna be a thorn in my side.

Bloody fucking Carmi.

"If she has expressed the desire to help with this quest, then she may. But it is not for me to decide. I do not hold sway over the Fellowship's decisions. As even my own path is unclear." I said bowing.

Which is true. I have no idea what I'm gonna do now. I doubt that Boromir will even let me go any further.

I mean, when you come to think of it, the only reason Tasha and I are here in Lothlorien is because Gandalf thought Galadriel might know why we fell from the damn bloody sky.

I don't know… I have to go to Amon Hen though…

And if I die then I die. Shit, I have to think this over.

"She's afraid of you isn't she?" I asked him smiling.

He smiled back. "More of my wife it seems. But The Lady is not the only power in these woods, as some may think."

Amen to that brotha!

"You must be careful of her little one. She is not one of the kinder folk that you shall meet in this quest." He told me gravely.

"I know." I said, nodding. "But I have a few tricks up my sleeve. And besides, I can protect myself."

He nodded and put an arm around my shoulders in an almost father-like fashion.

I stayed silent as we walked back to the ball, fighting the tears that now obscured my vision.

My father always used to put his arm around me whenever we were together. Whether it be to comfort me, to protect me, or just a normal sign of affection… that's what he always did.

I miss my daddy.

I parted ways with the elf lord making sure to keep my head bowed so as not to show him my tears.

I slowly made my way to an empty table in a corner so I could mope my way to the end of next year.

I couldn't leave yet so… this'll do.

I know, I know, I'm so pathetic. But I really really miss my father. I've always been Daddy's little girl so you can just imagine what I'm going through right now.

"Sam?" a voice said.

I know that voice.

Fuck, that isn't Pippin. Ok Sam, whatever you do, do _not _look up.

Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up.

Ah feck, I looked up.

"What is the matter?" Legolas asked siting down next to me concern dripping from his voice.

"It's nothing Legolas. I'm fine." I answer attempting hide my tears.

"No, you are not." He said firmly tilting my face towards his. He looked into my eyes, with _the look_.

Yeah you know, the one that makes you feel like Plexiglas.

That one.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

"It's nothing." I said giving him a smile. He didn't quite believe me by the look on his face. "_really._" I added.

"I do not believe it is nothing." He answered. "Sam, you _can_ tell me anything. I will not judge you."

Aww shit, he sounds hurt…

"It really isn't anything at all. I just remembered something." I said squeezing his hand.

He didn't look convinced but he nodded his head a few minutes later.

"Dance with me?" he said after a while, pulling me up from my chair towards the dance floor.

"I- I can't dance." I said turning a lovely shade of red.

"Nonsense!" he said laughing. The band struck up a tune and he pulled me towards him.

I kept my head down as we slowly moved to the slow music.

He pulled me closer and whispered, " Lle naa vanima…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I whisper back.

"In good time my lady, in good time…" he answers smiling at me.

Bloody Jackass.

Be cryptic on the dance floor by yourself.

Oops… my mouth once again disobeys me and has blurted out that last statement.

Piss off twinkle toes.

I'm not in the mood to be boggled right now.

And with those last few lines said to his face, I walked off leaving one shocked, confused and surprised Elf prince gaping at me.

**A/n:**

**Well… hope you enjoyed that… I'd like to say that I am truly sorry for not updating in so long. But I have a life outside of though it is rather sucky, so bear with me. Sorry if trying to live gets in the way of your story time… heh, anyways onto:**

**REVIEW RESPONSES! Yay!**

**Aya013: muahahahahhahaha! Your own army eh? I have faith in my hybrids! They shall not forsake me! What's your army btw?**

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**Animebishieluver: yoh! Fun? Oh thankies! Yeah, sure whatever… sorry it took so long..**

**Pop-tarts: here ya go!**

**Carolsi13: glad to know the sugar high was liked… should I insert more in the future chappies?**

**ArwenEvenstar83: ooh… another Samantha! Lol anyway, glad you like my story! Keep reviewing!**

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**IRLost: err… thankies! I guess… I can never know… was that an insult or a compliment? Whichever case, thanks! Glad you like my story. Keep reviewing!**

**So yeah, that's all I must be off lovies, to go in search of cookies and apple fritters….**

**Hmm… there are probably some hidden in the halls of Mandos.**

**Must check!**

**Toodles!**


	9. That is NOT good!

**A/n: well… kick me, kill me, hang me up by a thread and feed me to giant tree ants. I deserve it. Really I do. And I won't put up a fight if you do any of the afore mentioned things to me. Honest I won't. Well… maybe a little but… anyway, I'm really sorry it took me so long. But on a happier note, it's now our summer vacation so I'll be updating regularly. (Gulp) I hope…**

**IMPRTANT NOTE: ok, I know this is just pathetic but… come _on_ people! How hard is it to submit a review? _How_? I mean, 358 people read the previous chapter and only _5 freaking people_ managed the good grace to review? Jeez… I mean, sure reviews aren't really important but… reviews encourage me to write faster. It wouldn't hurt to know a lot of people appreciate your work. Even if you just say it's good and click ok, I'll be happy. Ok, I won't keep you from your fic any longer.**

_**ow**_

**Chapter 9: This is _not_ good…**

**-Sam-**

Maybe I shouldn't have done that…

Nah, he deserved it.

Or did he?

Ugh! I'm confusing myself.

That is not good.

Heaving myself onto a space of clean rock near Nimrodel, I watch the river gently flow by as I waited for the party to finish.

Sigh.

I need to think.

The river is beautiful.

I mean, how often do you come across something so majestic, it just takes you're breath away?

The party won't be over for a while yet. And I've had quite a few drinks already, courtesy of Hal.

I lean back and put my arms under my head, staring out into the stars.

It really is amazing. All the vast expanse of sky above me is lit by a myriad of twinkling stars.

I remember when I was a little girl; my dad would often take us out to the fields where we would just lie down on a blanket and stare at the stars. But then, of course, he found out my mom was cheating on him for the chauffeur and they got divorced.

Peachy story isn't it?

So…

Carmi's coming with us…

Makes sense actually…

Suppose she'd want to take all the glory for herself.

The little twit.

Ugh!

Guess she's not exactly happy about my presence here.

Wonder why?

Yes, that was intoned in a sarcastic manner.

-Cheap flashback effects! -

I was sitting alone in the talan, reading a book waiting for everyone to come back from dinner, which I had passed up. I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

See Hal had been training me and he gave me these absolutely gorgeous new set of blades and a sword, which I have taken to calling Keiko.

Oddly enough, I seem to be getting some odd looks whenever I bring her out and croon to her.

Hal says it's weird and disturbing.

Maybe he's right.

But then again it's probably just him.

But I'm getting way off course here. So when I heard the footsteps, I felt a distinctly unsettling feeling, like the person approaching wasn't someone nice. So I pulled a blade out of it's sheath in my boot and held it at my side.

The person turned out to be Carmi.

Wooh! Way to go instinct! Definitely not _nice_!

She stepped in and looked warily around, clearly checking to see if there was anyone from the fellowship around.

Oh, she's got to be kidding me.

What could be so _important_ that she has to make sure I'm the only one here?

Must be something that could distinctly ruin her image if she's going through so much trouble.

Psh!

If you ask me they don't think much of her as it is.

I mean I actually heard the hobbits saying she was evil.

Well to make it accurate, Sam said she was evil.

No not me, the other Sam.

I believe his exact words were, "You mark my words Mr. Merry, she's up to naught but evil. She looks evil enough after all, acts like it too."

Ah well, should I tell her that the attempt at the illusion is screwed?

Nah let her stew.

"You listen to me Samantha, and you listen good." She said glaring at me maliciously. "I don't know _how_ you got here, and I don't care. But if you get in my way, I swear to you I will kill you. And I won't hesitate to do it too."

Gee and here's me caring. Totally not.

I'd like to see her try.

"I'd like to see you try." I said silkily.

What?

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Carmi, listen to _me_." I said in a patronizing tone. "You couldn't even carry a book bag containing _5 books_, how d'you expect to be able to lift a big old sword?"

"This body is different." She says snidely, like I'm some lowly infidel Turk who was on the rampage against Constantinople.

"Sorry honeychild, but unless you eat about ten boxes of lembas everyday for three months, your dreams aren't coming true anytime soon." I said laughing. I stand up, and walk out the door, and I could feel her eyes boring into my back with so much hatred I could feel it rippling the air.

That is _not_ good.

-It's done! -

Oh dear, I believe she just threatened to shuffle me lose form this mortal coil.

Hang on, I'll double check.

Oh poppycock! She _did_!

Holy brown-haired bitch, Batman!

Oh well, not like she's exactly a force to be reckoned with.

Not to be overly evil, which I am not, not like her anyways.

But, Carmi's not exactly heavy in the intellectual department.

Nor in the physical department.

In fact, as sad a fact as it is, she's nothing but hair and cartwheels.

I know. It's a sad, sad day when all a girl can amount to is hair and flips.

But there's Carmi for you, right there.

I stood up and shook myself.

Holy crap, what was _in_ those drinks?

I feel like I just stepped off a twister ride at the amusement park.

This is _not_ good.

I _really_ don't like the way my vision keeps spinning.

Thankfully, I reach my intended destination wit only minimum trouble.

I plop onto my bed and close my eyes.

An odds of ten to one say I'm gonna have a massive headache tomorrow.

**- Frodo -**

"Sam," I whisper, gently shaking our female friend's shoulder. She lets out a moan and turns over, burying her face in her pillow.

"Sam," I repeat a little bit louder.

The others had appointed me to wake Sam up after waiting for her so we could start breakfast.

Sam is not a pleasant person during the morning hours but I thought it best not to argue.

Especially since we had all been waiting for two hours, and they were all getting quite crabby.

So here I am, outright yanking off her shoulder when she suddenly sits up and glares.

I step back a bit.

I remember Bilbo once saying that an angry woman is not something to be dealt with lightly.

Well, believe me she certainly _looks_ angry enough to fear.

"Oh, brilliant!" she groans outing her head in hand. "Just bloody fucking brilliant!"

I approach her cautiously.

"Sam?" I ask. "Are you alright?"

She looks up, as if just noticing that I was here.

"Oh, it's you Frodo." She says with a careless smile. "I'm fine. Thanks very much, I just have a headache that makes me feel like my skull's splitting."

"Ah, that would be the after effects of the wine you had last night." I tell her understanding well.

"Great, had I known it would be this bad I wouldn't have had so bloody much."

This piques my curiosity. "How many did you have?"

"Eleven bloody goblets. The big ones."

I wince. That is a lot.

"By the way Frodo, any particular reason you wanted to wake me?" she asks looking up at me.

"Oh yes. They sent me to wake you up and bring you down for breakfast." I told her smiling.

"Jeez," she said making a face. "I bet its Legolas. Isn't it? Damn him. _What_ is with this insane obsession of his that everybody eat together? He's like my damn mother!"

"Samantha?" I ask suddenly.

She looks at me, eyebrows raised.

"What was your family like?" I say.

Her shoulders fell and she looks like she's going to cry. I instantly realize I must be hitting a raw wound.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

She holds up a hand and smiles. "It's ok Frodo. It-it's fine. Really."

"It's just—you never mention them, and… I wondered."

She nodded understandingly. "It's alright Frodo." She repeats. "But could we maybe, not talk about anything like that for the moment? It- I just can't right now."

I nodded my assent.

**-Sam-**

"You can head back to the others if you'd like." I tell him pleasantly. "I believe I can find it myself.

He laughs at me. And if I didn't find it nice because he never seems to laugh that much, I'd smack him one.

"Not to be rude Samantha, but you're horrible when it comes to directions." He tells me matter-of-factly.

"Hey!" I cry out in an indignant way. Then I pause and shrug. "It's true. But you must be getting hungry and I still have to get changed."

I gesture to my dress, which I hadn't bothered taking off last night, I was too smashed.

"No, it's quite alright." He answers. I turned around and scavenged for some clean clothes.

Aha!

Found some!

I marched over and pulled a pair of long brown trousers from a drawer. Then I picked up a snug tunic in a dashing green.

Ugh! Personally, I think I look like some weird and deformed form of Legolas but we won't get into that. My jeans are being cleaned and mended.

My other clothes however, have been graciously kept out of sight so I'd have no choice but wear the god-awful dress last night.

They still haven't returned them.

Bugger all.

I pulled the tunic over my head and slip into my boots. Oh I haven't mentioned them have I?

Wooh! They're absolutely fricking awesome! They're black, and lace-up and knee-length. Ain't that peachy?

I'm sorry; I seem to have developed a rather strange fascination with objects.

At least, that's what Legolas says.

He told me so yesterday, when I was busy crooning to Keiko.

When I stepped out of the changing room thingy, I saw Frodo, sitting on the edge of a chair, looking serious.

Honestly, I could have handled the seriousness, but he just looked so damn forlorn I _had _to do something.

I knelt down in front of him.

"Hey," I said gently smiling up at him. "Lighten up."

He smiled, well not really a smile, it was too sad.

"How can I?" he ask me.

Damn, he looks so lost.

"Listen Frodo, I won't pretend to understand the burden you carry. I know it's not easy, I know the temptation grows bigger and bigger." He looked at me, surprised. " I may not know a lot of things, but I do know this. Galadriel was right. Hear me? You do what you have to, ok? Because the fact remains, that we can't protect you from ourselves." I tell him as gently as I can.

He looks at me with a hardening resolve.

I see fear in his eyes, but with the thought of where he's headed? Who wouldn't?

Fear and determination. _This_ is the Frodo, I admire.

"Now what do you say we head on over to those loons and rustle us some breakfast?" I say taking his hand.

We walk over to where the fellowship was sitting.

Oh dear, they all look incredibly pissed.

"Took you long enough lass." Gimli said.

"You didn't _have_ to wait for me you know."

" 'Twas the Elf's idea." Boromir told me sighing. "You _could_ have hurried could you not?"

I grin. "I know. But you should be kept on your toes gentlemen."

I hear a noise from Merry and Pippin. Oops, I forgot we had hobbits present.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask them one eyebrow raised.

They don't answer; they just pile their food on their plates, looking surly.

"It serves you right you know." I tell them laughing. "_All_ of you. After all the mocking I received from you lot."

Suddenly Aragorn plopped, yes plopped onto the empty seat next to me.

"Hello there sunshine, you're not looking particularly bright today." I say biting into a piece of cake.

"Thank you for that Sam." He tells me sarcastically. I grin cheekily.

Just between you and me, I have no idea what's going on.

"We leave tomorrow." He says suddenly. "We must travel by the river and make for Amon Hen."

Peachy.

Amon hen.

That's where things reach their turning point.

Frodo and Sam go onwards to Mordor.

Merry and Pippin get captured by Orcs.

Boromir dies.

I could die.

Holy shit stick! Boromir dies!

Oh no… I can't let that happen!

He's like my brother. Admittedly, he's an insane brother but that's the principle of the thing!

Oh crap, crap, crap!

This is _not_ good.

Oh yes, this is _definitely not_ good.

**A/n: ok, so I hope more people _do_ review this time. And just so you know, I have the next two chapters, typed up and ready to post but I won't until my review ratings move up. Hmmph, I know I'm acting immature and all that but I just wanna feel appreciated.**

**Now click the nifty purple button, please?**

**ShadOw08**


	10. Farewell to the leaves of Lorien

**a/n: well, here goes the next chappie! Hope you like it even though it is a bit short…**

**Chapter Ten: Farewell to the leaves of Lorien…**

**-Sam-**

Bloody hell my head hurts…

I am going to _kill_ Haldir when I find him.

Honestly!

What is wrong with that elf? You just don't go around giving depressed maidens goblets of wine!

Particularly not _strong_ wine! In fact, I doubt you should even give them _weak_ wine let alone strong stuff!

He's dead.

Heard me?

DEAD!

Or not…

"Er--- Sam?" Boromir asks looking concernedly at me.

"Uh-huh?" I answer lamely from my place on the grass.

And just so you know, no I am not eating. One bite of cake and my head exploded. I came down, reprimanded all of them for all their mocking last night, and nearly got my head bitten off by two very hungry (and very surly) hobbits.

Now, I am nursing my headache from hell as I lie in a pathetic heap on the floor.

Add to that the fact that I still haven't quite talked it out with that little voice in my head.

You know, the one that's screaming 'DON'T INTERFERE!'

I honestly detest that stupid little voice.

"Are you alright dear sister?" Boromir asks touching my forehead.

I must look like crap.

"Ugh… yeah…Haldir…dead… elf…walking…head huuurts…." I manage to get out without banging my head on the table.

"How much did you drink last night?" Aragorn asks, leaning over me as well, and examining me.

Ok, I do _not_ like people being in my face when I have a hangover, back up people.

Shit, I've once again lost my vocal controls.

"Peace Sam, I meant no offence." Aragorn says holding up a hand and smiling. "But perhaps we should get you a pot of tea."

Oddly, that last phrase is of no comfort. It only makes me think of Julie Andrews consorting with traitor beard over there.

I would laugh if it weren't such an effort to do so.

Fuck, my head really hurts.

And can someone do me a favor and get this image of Julie Andrews smiling and Aragorn going 'Pass the crumpets if you please, my Queen.'

From somewhere above me, Legolas puts a tray down on the table.

Uhmm… when did he leave?

"Sam, can you manage to sit up?" he asks, sitting down next to me.

I nod. I am never going to drink again.

Ever.

I swear to god/ Valar/ Merlin/or whatever freaking deity, never again.

Twinkle toes hands me a cup of steaming tea and I down it in one gulp.

Bad idea.

Now my throat hurts.

Stupid tea.

I scalded my tongue.

Now I'm gonna go sulk.

But hey, at least my head doesn't feel like it's about to fall off.

"So," I say, turning to Aragorn. "When did you say we were leaving?"

"In two days." He answers.

Peachy.

OoO 

I never did get to extract my vengeance upon Haldir.

Honestly? I got too caught up in our goodbyes that I sorta forgot that he was responsible for my headache from hell.

Now, I am sailing in a boat with Legolas and Gimli, while Carmi is glaring at me.

Yeah? Well right up yours, bitch.

I'm as clueless as a flagpole as to why I'm here in this particular boat.

I don't need your glares.

Ah, if looks could kill.

We are now sailing on to Amon Hen.

Between you and me, I'm so nervous I could pop. Instead, I finger my necklace worriedly.

Yeah, you know that little thing where Galadriel gave the fellowship gifts?

Yeah. Well I got one too.

-Close your eyes, here it comes! -

I sighed, swallowing the last bite of lembas I had in my hand before handing Gimli the last of the packs to stow in our boat.

This is getting monotonous.

Can it be cloudy and foggy at the same time?

If an atheist goes to court do they make them swear on the Bible?

If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?

Meh, I'm so bored.

"Come on lass, up yeh get." Gimli said pushing me onto my feet.

I'm incapacitated at the moment.

"Wha? Where're we headed Cap'n?" I mumble.

"The Lady Galadriel is calling us." He answered.

Ah, does that explain anything?

Honestly, my brain is too fogged up to recall.

What happens right now?

"Mae govannen." Galadriel greets, holding up a hand.

Ah, I think I remember… it's time for Galadriel to give the fellowship the gifts.

So what am _I_ doing here?

'_Hush child…I must speak to you.'_

Uh… okay… that explains it.

I think…

She held out her hands to me and I stepped forward.

Actually Legolas pushed me, but we won't get into that.

He's a dead elf walking.

"My Lady," I said bowing.

She pulled me up and smiled. "Such a pity that one so young should bear witness to such horrors." She began looking mournful.

Well… gee… thanks a lot Galadriel. Glad to know my life's gonna be such a peach.

She smiled at this. "Do not worry little one. You shall be happy in the end. Nothing is set in stone, but expect it nonetheless."

Expect what?

What're we talking about?

She laughed gaily and pressed something into my hands.

I opened it and saw to my surprise a silver necklace.

It had a pendant of mithril shaped into a teardrop with a jewel set in the middle.

I examined it and realized with a jolt that the jewel's color looked hauntingly familiar.

'It's the exact color of blue as…' 

"Yes child?" Galadriel asked smiling mischievously. My eyes widened.

"You heard that?"

She laughed and stroked my cheek.

"'Twas a good thing you did for Frodo, Samantha. But be careful, not all in your company are as true."

I nodded and bowed my head. "Yes, My Lady."

She turned to some other member of the fellowship and I walked off to busy myself with clasping the necklace.

"Would you like some assistance?" came a haughty voice from behind me.

I turned around and saw the one and only Haldir.

"Hal!" I squealed, (Yes, squealed. I am deeply ashamed. ) And hugged him.

"Do not forget your training child." He told me sternly. "You are headed for the wild. It would be most unwise to be careless."

I grinned at him before giving a salute. "Aye, aye sarge."

"I'm gonna miss you Hal." I told him.

"As will I _nin mellon_. You will be careful?"

"Yes, mother. I won't get killed by the ickle orcses and other evils when we get to Mordor."

I left him then, and went over to Celeborn, who was beckoning to me.

I bowed again this is getting really monotonous. "My Lord."

He smiles at me and kisses my temple. "Be careful little one, your fate may not be closely tied with those of the others but the tide may yet turn."

He handed me a dagger and a phial of liquid. "I know our March Warden has equipped you and trained you well, as he should, but it does not hurt to have a spare. We cannot have one so fair walk out of Lorien unprotected. The phial contains a healing serum made from the leaves of the _mallorn_ and it can cure almost anything, I daresay you shall find some use for it sooner or later."

And with that, he walked off.

Elves are _WEIRD!_

They are seriously, seriously deranged.

First it was Legolas, with the whole ear-turning-pink thing, which I have yet to figure out.

Then it was the psycho march warden.

Now it's the freaky Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon celebrating some sort of Cryptic Christmas day thing.

This is just peachy.

-It's done! You can look now! -

I sighed and sat back in the boat. It's going to be days until we stop and rest.

Ten to one odds say that I'm gonna be bored out of my mind on this trip.

Ugh…

This is gonna suck.

**a/n: well… there ya go… I'm sad to say that although I have the next chapter finished and waiting, I won't be updating for a while…I'm entering my senior year of high school come June and with it, come the college entrance exam reviews.. so I really gotta concentrate on those things if I want to pass the no. 1 college here in the Philippines…so I'm sorry… I won't be updating in a while.. I will however continue to work on the chapters afterwards whenever I have time and will update whenever possible. In the meantime, why don't you submit me more rebiews? It would be highly appreciated and I would get the drive to update more if I get more reviews…**

**toodles!**

**c",) shadow08**


	11. the argonath, and the changing of paths

**a/n: hey de hi de ho! Yes, I do realize I just jacked that from CCs, my sister will kill me. But anyways… I'm back with another chapter! Isn't that spectacular? Aren't you just _so_ proud of me? see I was watching the extended version of the two towers again last night and I thought, 'why not give them another chapter?' after all school's going back up again, and I won't be able to for a while, as I've said before. So here it is, it's not so very long but it's decent enough…I think…and shall hitherto serve as my farewell to summer.**

**-Sam-**

You know if Amon Hen were any prettier, I would forget someone dies here.

And we can't have that can we?

So, here we are, waiting for the cover of darkness. Or at least that's what Aragorn says, I think.

I sit down and watch as Legolas whispers something urgently to Aragorn.

Ah, that would be the drama. That poor pet has seen the Uruk-hai.

God, if he were any prettier, I'd be hurting him. Badly.

Yes, I am babbling. Somebody shut my brain up.

I notice Carmi watching the scene and notice for the first time that she had a bow strapped to her back.

Hmm… my observational skills are shot.

Legolas stomps over to me and sits down.

Aww, he's pissed the poor petal.

"What's eating you honeychild?" I ask yawning.

"What?" he asks frowning.

"What's your problem?" I ask rephrasing my question.

"It is nothing." He answers.

I shrug. Hey, whatever. By the way, do you know how hard it is to sleep with an elf and a dwarf on a tiny boat?

There's my point right there. It ain't a walk in the park let me tell you that. You're going to have muscle cramps all over the place; I don't think my neck will ever feel the same again.

I need sleep _so_ badly… but I can't. There's too much to do. Maybe I can get a few hours in at Rohan, after Helm's deep.

Holy copper kettle, this is gonna be a long trek…

OoO 

Shit!

That stupid, stupid Elf!

I _specifically_ told him to shake me awake if I ever fall asleep, but what does he do?

Yeah, he let's me have a snooze fest.

I look around and swear when I saw that we were missing my brother, a hobbit-slash-ringbearer and king traitor beard. Oh, fiddlesticks!

Shit! Stupid nancing Elf! Can't even follow a simple direction.

I stand up, ignoring the way my vision spins.

I blink; bollocks this is going to be difficult.

"Samantha?" a voice asks, concernedly. Said voice walks over to me and places a hand gently on my cheek. "Are you alright?"

I nod. "Of course sunshine."

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Truly?"

I smile. "Yeah." Then I run. I run helter-skelter through the forest, ignoring all the branches and leaves that were scratching my skin.

I tear through the trees and bushes and finally reach the clearing to see Aragorn, alone.

"Sam?" he says surprised. "What're you doing here?"

"Frodo." I say desperately. "Where's Frodo?" he points somewhere. "Did you let him go?"

"How do you know about that?" he asks frowning. "How do you know of our conversation?"

"_Tell me!_ Did you or did you not let him go on to Mordor alone?" I ask, well actually I yelled, but we won't get into that.

"Yes, I did." He says eyes cast downward.

I breathe out a sigh of relief and was just about to collapse on a rock when the blasted Uruk-hai decided that that was the best time to make an entrance.

Crap, crap, crap!

I bring Keiko out and rush forward with Aragorn and start hacking apart the beasties.

I gut a particularly nasty looking one and pull the blade out sideways through him.

Ooh, score one for decapitation!

Sometimes, I think I am just way too sadistic for my own good.

I can hear Aragorn calling out. I haven't the inclination or the capability to listen to him. I mean, you're out numbered ten-to-one by Orcs would you wanna listen to anything besides orders of pulling back? Nuh-uh, you'd be way too busy tearing the enemy apart limb from limb. Besides, I have other priorities.

Then suddenly, I hear it.

"The Horn of Gondor." Legolas says from somewhere behind me.

"Boromir." I gasp. I sheath Keiko and run for all I'm worth.

'_Please let me be on time.'_ I chant in my head.

I arrive in the clearing and saw all the Uruks that lay maimed and mangled at Boromir's feet.

Hmm… guess he wasn't the captain of Gondor's armies for nothing.

The one last Uruk standing held a crossbow and was about to fire what was to be the fourth and lethal shot.

I pulled out a blade from my boot and jumped onto its back.

What? Don't look at me like that. It's rude.

He bucked and reared, trying to get me off. He almost did actually. Getting scalped by a tree is a very unpleasant sensation; don't try it any time soon. I reached forward, blade in my hand and slashed him deeply across the throat. Then grasping his hair with all the strength I could manage after being hit again, bastard. I twist his head around three hundred and sixty degrees, hearing the sickening crack of the bones as I did so. Then he falls to the floor and dies.

I hear a noise from somewhere and more snarls.

Peachy! More Uruks!

I swear loudly and stand up from where I had fallen with the crossbow-wielding Uruk-hai I had just killed. I run over to Boromir who, miraculously, is still standing and can still fight.

"Are you alright?" I scream over the noise of these monstrosities were killing.

He nods mutely and continues to hack apart the Orcs that seem to keep streaming endlessly, until we hear the call of "Elendil!" from the distance. Aragorn, thank you for finally deciding to join us.

Suddenly, Boromir staggers; I behead an orc and run over to him.

_There is an arrow in his side._

There is not supposed to be a bloody arrow in his bloody side!

I let out a stream of obscenities as I examine the arrow. That's no orc arrow. That's an arrow from the Galadhrim's weaponry. The little _bitch_!

I stand up, seething. "Aragorn, get those arrows out of Boromir and bind him tightly in bandages." I tell him firmly. "If my brother dies, I'll kill _you_ until you _die_." Not wasting time to make sure he understood exactly what it is I said, I ran for it. I headed for the direction the arrow came from.

I took in nothing, none of the tree or the leaves, or the roots and twigs that caused me to stumble and slip. It was just that white light that I knew would take me to Carmi. I was driven by anger and nothing could deter me, I had to find Carmi…if only to hurt her enough for shooting the only family I had here.

I finally find her near the ruins where Frodo fell. Now that I think about it, it makes sense for her to go there, Aragorn and the others have already killed off the Uruks that came there so it's practically the safest place in Amon Hen.

She turns to me and glares. I smirk unpleasantly at her and grip Keiko closer to my side.

"Come here to avenge the Steward Sammie?" she says spitefully. "I don't see what difference it makes, if he dies, he dies."

I stay silent.

"I warned you not to get in my way. The Elf is mine. Nothing you can do can make it otherwise."

This time I grin; it's unpleasant I know this. "That's where you're wrong Carmi. By my interference or not, you can't kill Boromir because I won't let you, and if he does die, you're gonna wish you are too. And as for the Elf? Fat chance, he heard you. And it looks like your genetic ignorance has won through."

She looked at me confused, yes; sadly I do have that effect on people. Her, more than most at least.

"You used a Galadhrim arrow. And there's only one other person here who has a bow other than Legolas."

She looks apprehensive now, if I were in her shoes, I'd be shaking. You do not mess with those guys.

They may act all macho and stuff but they have a right to, they're excellent warriors.

"That's right Carmi, the charade is over. If you come anywhere near one of them now, they'll kill you." I said in a taunting voice.

She let out a scream that blamed me for ruining everything. She swings a sword at my head. I duck. I hear the singing of the air as I narrowly avoid another blow. I bring Keiko up to block her next swing. She snarls at me and pushes on the sword. Suddenly, she whips a dagger from somewhere and buries it into my shoulder.

I recoil visibly. Oww! That fucking hurts! I stagger and lean on Keiko for balance.

"That dagger is laced with poison Samantha." She tells me grinning broadly. "It's fresh. I just made it from the mushrooms in the forest. You'll die a slow and painful death within twenty-four hours. I warned you, and if I can't have the Elf, no one can."

My vision span as she turned and ran. God, this dagger hurts. I bend over and spill my guts on a dead Uruks' head. She _has_ to be lying. Mushrooms can't do anything. Can they?

Ugh! Don't tell me the poison is already taking effect. I can't breathe…

I somehow manage to sheath Keiko and wipe my mouth.

I move to turn around and head back to the clearing where the others were.

When I finally manage it, I find my face buried in a chest clad in dark-brown leather.

"Legolas…" I gasp out.

How does he manage to do that?

It's like, every time I turn around, he's there… protecting me, watching…

"What has happened?" he asks, moving to yank the dagger out of my shoulder. I wince and slap his hands away. It's painful.

"Ow, don't _do_ that! It fucking hurts!"

"What happened Sam?" he repeats.

"She got away. Carmi got away." I say angrily, or at least as angrily as I could when my head keeps exploding in little big bang scenarios. "She stabbed me with this dagger and ran off."

He swears, ooh it's not pleasant.

Where'd he learn such language? I would've expected that from Haldir while he's defending the borders.

"Can you walk Sam?" he asks moving towards me.

I nod.

Whoo boy, I think we both know I'm lying.

He arches an eyebrow gracefully.

I glare at him and walk forward.

Dammit!

Yeah, in case you don't know yet, I failed. I'm utterly pathetic.

Imagine, something as little as poison seeping through my veins and already I'm worthless.

This is peachy.

Just peachy.

Legolas gives an exasperated sigh. "Sam you are truly one of the most stubborn people I have ever met."

I huffed at him as he picked me up. He rolled his eyes at me and exhaled.

"We must get you back to the others."

I stayed silent but a thought struck me.

"Legolas?" I murmured feeling a sudden weight on me.

"Yes?"

"B-Boromir…wh-where is he?" I stumbled over the words. "H-he's ok isn't he? I-I _did_ manage to save him d-didn't I?"

"Yes Sam," he answered putting me down gently. "Aragorn has tended to his wounds."

"Th-That's good." I said smiling, or trying to anyway.

"What has happened?" came another voice. It was Aragorn.

Legolas took him aside and spoke to him in elvish.

The two came back beside me and Aragorn turned to Legolas. "You had better hold her down."

"What?" I asked frowning in confusion.

Legolas however seemed to understand whatever it was Aragorn was saying because he quickly walked behind me and put his arms around me.

"Hey!" I cried trying to struggle. "What the hell is going on?"

Aragorn bent down and quickly wrenched the dagger out of my shoulder.

"OUCH!"I howled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! That _hurts_!"

Suddenly Aragorn threw away the dagger, a look of disgust on his face.

"What is it?" Boromir asks standing up from a corner. He's all bandaged up and looks like every move hurts like a bitch.

"Poisoned." Aragorn states. "The dagger has been poisoned."

This time Gimli and Boromir swear.

I rest my head onto a large rock behind me and hold onto my arm, which now felt like it was being sawed in half.

I could feel the tears roll down my cheeks from the pain.

Isn't there some sort of anaesthetic here that they could use?

God I'd be glad for any kind of medicine right now, as long as I live and it stops the pain.

Why do I feel like I've forgotten something?

'_Do not forget your training child...'_

Thanks Hal, I didn't. But look where it got me.

No…it's something else…

Owie… it really hurts…

I'm gonna go snooze; maybe when I wake up I'll figure out what it is I'm forgetting.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

'_The phial contains a healing serum that can heal almost anything...'_

I bolted upright suddenly wide-awake.

Ignoring the renewed stabs of pain in my shoulder and the way my vision span dangerously.

Damn, I think the poison is getting the better of me.

"Lie down lass," Gimli said grabbing my arm. "Yeh should be restin'."

"N-no," I wheezed. "I just remembered I h-have a phial of something. C-Celeborn gave it t-to me. S-said I might f-find some use f-for it."

They all looked at me as though fearing for my sanity.

I stumbled towards my pack and drew out the phial given to me by the elf-lord.

Legolas eased it from my grasp and gently pushed me back into a sitting position.

"_Mallorn_." He said looking delighted. "Sam, you must drink this. It will counter-act the poison of the mushroom."

Honestly buddy boy, I don't care anymore, just make everything stop spinning and hurting.

I swallowed a few gulps of the liquid and closed my eyes.

----

Then suddenly, I opened them and blinked.

The pain is still there but I'm not on a roller coaster anymore. Everything is now staying blissfully in place and I don't feel like I just got hit by a rocket-launcher.

Hooray!

Legolas smiled at me and gently placed a cool hand on my forehead.

I looked at my shoulder and was surprised to see that it had been bandaged.

I didn't even feel it.

"It will be a pain for a while." He told me, putting back the phial into my pack. "Perhaps a few days of uncomfortable movement, but you shall be fine. Especially since you have that potion."

I smiled back at him and stood up.

"Are you sure you are well enough to go about?" Boromir asks, seeing me.

I nod and smile. "Yes mother. I'm sure. I'll be fine. I've got the spiffy potion from Lorien, I'll live."

He looked doubtful so Aragorn's call was welcome.

"We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Leave everything that can be spared behind. We travel light." He said sheathing one of his blades. "Let us hunt some Orc!"

Instantly the determined looks were back in place and I'm sure there was a certain battle-hungry gleam in all their eyes.

I picked up all the things I was likely to need and followed the others.

I hear Gimli laugh and roll my eyes.

MEN!

**a/n: there you have it! Hope you appreciated that…and I hope I don't get any flames for saving Boromir… anyhoo, don't forget to click the nifty purple button!**


	12. and the testosterone award goes to

**A/n: I'm back! Yay! I have already finished writing until chapter 14 so I might e posting every other week or so… but anyways, hope you enjoy this!**

**Dedication: to my _hamster_ Pepo; may he rest in peace wherever he now is. –sniff-**

**Chapter 12: and the testosterone award goes to….**

**-Sam-**

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Heave ho, heave ho.

Sorry, my brain is in serious need of rest right now.

I've been having doubts of my own…I mean, what if my saving Boromir changes what happens to Merry and Pippin?

What if my rashness ruins something and they die?

"Their pace has quickened... they must have caught our scent. Hurry!" Aragorn called pressing his ear to the ground.

"Come on, Gimli." Legolas calls to the dwarf behind him and run off. And what are Boromir and I, chopped liver?

"Come little sister, we must venture forth with great haste." Boromir said turning to look at me.

In other words we need to speed the hell up if we ever want to catch the blasted beasts carrying our small friends.

I nod mutely and run after them.

"Three day's and night's pursuit…no food, no rest, no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." Gimli muttered huffing like a fish out of water.

I grinned at this. "No worries then, eh Gimli? I said dropping a wink at him and running off.

I _have_ to be stupid, I really do, or else I'm going to explode. I beg the pardon of all.

We follow Aragorn across plains and other lush greenery. Pity though, if we could've spared a moment it would've been an extremely breathtaking view.

I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head to ward off the sun's rays.

We ran over rocks and grass and came to a shadowy place behind a hill.

Aragorn bent down, examining the ground.

He picked up something jewel-bright in the trampled earth.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." He muttered only loud enough for us to hear.

"They may yet be alive." Legolas said hopefully.

"Less than a day ahead of us, come!"

Aha! And we're running again!

I haven't run this much in my _life_. Overhead I hear Legolas call for us to hurry.

I hold on to my knees and wheeze.

Ugh.

"I am wasted on cross-country." Gimli calls out to our Elven companion. "We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances."

Good on you Gimli. Maybe you can use that biting wit of yours to catch up to those two supermen yonder and giving them a good whack for us injured people eh?

That was mean, but I'm not in the mood to be nice right now.

My lungs are disintegrating, so you'll pardon my attitude.

"Sam?" Boromir pauses, he's a whole lot better now. I envy his recuperating skills, he was shot with I don't-know-how-many-arrows and the man can still walk!

It's bloody unnatural I say! But then again, I guess having two competent healers with us helps. Didn't even feel a thing when Legolas treated that stab wound.

But then again… maybe it's because I was too knackered at that time to notice.

"Are you alright dear sister?"

I nod. "Will be in a second." I pull out the phial from my bag; yes I'm still carrying it with me. I need the clothes; I can't very well walk around in the same garments if they get slashed right?

I took a swig from the liquid inside and followed everyone else.

"Rohan," I hear Aragorn say. "Something strange is at work here, some evil gives speed to this creatures. Sets its will against us."

Wooh boy, doesn't that sound ominous?

We watch as Legolas climbs onwards onto the rocks.

"Legolas," Aragorn called. "What do your Elf eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn North-east, they are taking the hobbits to Isengard!" he exclaims.

Saruman…damn him to hell and back.

What if the Uruk-hai manage to get them to him? What if the Rohirrim don't slaughter them? What if Eomer was never banished to begin with?

Ugh!

I somehow tune out the next few hours as we run and run and run and run and run and… you get the picture right?

Once or twice I caught a few choice words.

Like…

"The red sun rises…blood has been spilt this night."

Or…

Swearing from Boromir, as he mutters about how that might well be the blood of our beloved halflings.

He's a right old ray of sunshine isn't he?

And after that… not much else… until of course I was so rudely thrown behind a rock.

"Ow!" I screeched glaring at Boromir. "Wha d'you do that for?"

"Riders of Rohan." Legolas says quietly. "One hundred and five. Armed with spears."

"Boromir, when I get my senses back you are going to be disowned." I hiss at him as Aragorn step out of the rocks.

"Good thing then," he answered grinning. "There is no luck of such a thing happening."

I gaped at him.

Why, I do believe he just insulted me!

The bloody arsewipe…

He has _some_ nerve!

Legolas pulls me out of the rock as Aragorn calls out to the riders.

Bad move number one.

Instantly the riders turn back and surround us.

I think I'd rather get back behind the rock now…I don't fancy dying just yet…

Can I just say that I am already incredibly sick of having the pointy end of any weapon directed at me?

It gets really old after having to fight those goddamned Uruk-hai.

"What business do three men, an Elf and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" asks, well more of demands actually, the leader of the horse-riders. "Speak quickly."

Wait…did he just say _three_ men?

I opened my mouth to protest but Gimli cut me off. "Give me your name horse-master and I shall give you mine."

Eomer, as his name is, climbed off his horse and approached Gimli menacingly. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." He snarled.

Wooh boy, here we go.

"You would die before you're stroke fell." Legolas retorted angrily, whipping out an arrow.

Well, this is something you don't see frequently. An Elf, defending a Dwarf. It's just so poetic isn't it?

Aragorn forces Legolas to lower his weapon and gives him a look.

Ooh, the kingly-ranger dude has come forth! Beware his almighty strength and power!

Uh…ok, had a moment there…

"I am Aragorn, so of Arathorn. This is Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor-"

"We know each other." Came Eomer and Boromir's voices.

"This is Gimli son of Gloin," Aragorn continued. "Legolas from the Woodland Realm ad Samantha, a warrior from a distant land."

Way to go Aragorn!

There were snorts of disbelief and open mouths as I drew back my hood.

"A woman?" they all muttered. "Who would arm a woman?"

I raised an eyebrow. Biting back a harsh retort to all the mutterings.

"We are friends of Rohan." Aragorn said looking at Eomer. "And of Theoden your King."

"Theoden no longer recognizes friends from foe." Eomer said taking of his helmet and finally, the pointy objects were drawn away. "Not even his own kin. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed Lordship over this land. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that we are banished."

Eomer frowns and looks at each of us. His eyes lingered on me, a gleam of disapproval at all my pointy regalia.

And the testosterone award goes to: ding, ding, ding!

Well, who said you had to like me huh?

"The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." He said a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"We are no spies." Boromir said looking at Eomer, chin raised.

But he didn't look convinced.

"We are no spies." Aragorn repeated. "We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."

Eomer is shaking his head even before Aragorn finishes talking.

Not a good sign…

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." He said not meeting any of our eyes.

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

"What about two hobbits?" Gimli roared worriedly. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small." Aragorn said intervening. "Only children to your eyes."

"We left none alive." Eomer mutters to Aragorn. "We piled the carcasses and burned them." He pointed into the distance where a steady pillar of smoke streamed up to the sky.

"Dead?" Gimli asks, sounding as if he dared not believe it.

Shit, shit, shit!

Wait a minute, everything else seems to be taking place as expected…maybe I can be optimistic and hope that nothing changed… after all I did throw Boromir's broken horn down the river…

What?

Don't look at me like that.

It was broken anyway! But don't tell him… he might break _me_ if he finds out…

But that way it'll still be found by Faramir and all that so the story doesn't get messed up too badly…

I mean except for Boromir being alive…

Oh crap… I just realized... The last time I was optimistic I almost got killed by my date.

Ok, we're screwed. Totally, royally screwed…

Eomer nods. "I am sorry."

He whistles and calls forward four horses. What're the odds huh?

I guess more people died last night than was shown in the movie…

"May these horses bring you to better fortune than their former Masters." He said after getting back on his horse. "Farewell. Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride North!"

Screwed…utterly hopelessly screwed I tell you…

Oh man, oh man….

"Sam?" came Aragorn's voice breaking through my thoughts.

"What?"

"Are you not going to ride with us?" Boromir asks.

I stare at the black stallion in front of me.

Oh fiddlesticks…

I don't know how to ride!

Bloody hell…

This is just wonderful isn't it?

"Uhmm… how exactly do I _get on_?" I ask turning red.

"You mean you do not know how to ride?" Boromir asks, his face full of amusement.

"Yes, wise guy I don't. Now can we get on with the program?" I mutter. "How do I get on the bloody horse?"

Legolas climbs off Arod and spares a few minutes to tell me how to climb onto the horse, how to hold the reins properly and how not to fall off.

"Do you understand?" he asked once we had finished. I nodded, theory grasped professor.

I put my foot onto the stirrup and heaved myself over the saddle.

Now, I did it exactly as Legolas said. So imagine my surprise when I suddenly found myself upside down.

"Oi!" I screamed. "Get me upright!"

Fortunately, Legolas managed to work out what was wrong with the cinch or whatever the hell it's called and got me vertical again whilst the other three laughed their heads off. Mind you, just because he was helping me doesn't mean he wasn't laughing.

"Glad you find me so hilarious." I said sarcastically, glaring at all of them.

"I thought you understood what I said." Legolas stated laughing.

"I did!" I stormed at him. "The execution's just—fuzzy!"

"Ah," he said winking. "That makes perfect sense."

Smart arse.

This time when I swung my leg over the saddle I managed to get it right, and away we went.

I much prefer riding to running. It's much faster.

And when you get the hang of it, it's actually kinda fun.

Enjoyable really…

Now here's hoping it doesn't throw me off…

Fiddlesticks…

Ugh.

Remind me to avoid seeing burnt Uruk-hai for the rest of my life.

That is so not attractive…

I think I'm going to puke.

Gimli rushed forward and parted the corpses with his axe.

"It's one of their little belts." He said, tears trickling from her eyes.

I put an arm around myself, as I will the shivers to go away.

"Hiro hyn hidh ab wanath" Legolas whispers, a hand over his chest.

Aragorn lets out an anguished scream and drops to his knees.

"We have failed them." Boromir mutters sadly.

Suddenly, Aragorn mutters, "A hobbit lay here."

I looked up, that means they're alive!

I _didn't_ ruin it after all!

We follow him across the fields, muttering along the way.

"Into Fangorn Forest." He says halting in front of the trees.

"Fangorn!" Gimli muttered distastefully. "What madness drove them in there?"

AND… we're off!

**A/n: click the nifty button!**


	13. talking trees and bona fide zombie kings

**A/n: this ficcie is now a teenager! Aren't you so proud? Not only is this fic now an adolescent, I've also been managing to update on a regular weekly basis! So anyways, you better review this time! Or I might not post the next one for a loooong time. It's my birthday next week, so you won't get to celebrate if you don't review.**

**Dedication:** to the baker! I love your bread man! It's awesome for hungry breakfast craving people like me!

**-Sam-**

If this forest isn't ominous, then I'm a pink and spangled toad.

"Orc blood." Gimli says, spitting.

Aragorn bends down, examining the ground. "These are strange tracks." He says bewildered.

"The air is so close in here." Boromir says looking around.

"This forest is old." Legolas explains. "Very old. Full of memory… and _anger_."

Low groans echo all around us.

"Shit!" I said jumping in surprise. "What's making the sound?"

"The trees are speaking to each other." Legolas said almost wistfully.

Aragorn turned to Gimli, who had his axe raised and ready. "Gimli!"

"Huh?" he grunted, in answer.

"Lower your axe."

"Oh."

"Yes, lower your axe indeed." Boromir muttered from beside me. "Talking trees…"

"They have feelings my friend. The elves began it; waking up the trees, teaching them to speak." Legolas said turning to Gimli.

"Talking Trees." Snorted Gimli. "What do trees have to talk about, hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

I know Gimli; leave it to the elves eh?

"Aragorn, nad no ennas." Legolas mutters hurrying towards Aragorn.

Oh crap…

I plop down onto the ground and clutch my head.

"Sam?" Boromir asks, bending down. "Are you alright?"

I nod.

I'm fine. Just a little turbulence in my head that's all.

Yes, I do realize that sounds psychotic.

Boromir pulls me back up as Aragorn mutters, "Do not let him speak, he will put a spell on us."

I sigh and bring out Keiko.

We turn to attack but a bright light emanating from a tall figure blinds us.

The arrow that Legolas shot and Gimli's axe are both deflected. Meanwhile, Aragorn, Boromir all drop our respective weapons.

I swear. Gandalf, once I find the proper opportunity, I will have you lynched! Or give you a very stern talking to at the very least.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits." The figure said, still hidden in the bright light.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded.

Ooh…go Kingly Ranger Dude!

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

Oddly, when paired with that voice and this place, No.

"Who are you?" Aragorn asks, all demanding again. "Show yourself!"

Almost instantly, the light behind the figure dims and reveals Gandalf, dressed in white, and shifts a white staff as if to commandeer respect.

Legolas goes on his knees and bows, Gimli follows suit. Boromir and I stare, well he stares; I ogle before bowing down as well.

"It cannot be!" Aragorn whispers.

Legolas looks up. "Forgive me, I mistook you for Saruman."

"I _am_ Saruman." Gandalf replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell!" Aragorn said in a hardly-daring-to-believe tone.

"Through fire." He said agreeing. "And water."

Ah, this would be where he explains about fighting the Balrog and killing it and whatnot.

I tune him out.

So this must mean that Merry and Pippin are alive and well!

Hooray!

I didn't completely ruin stuff after all!

I look up and notice that everyone else was already off the ground.

Gee, thanks for giving me the heads up guys.

"Gandalf?" the old wizard repeats, nonplussed. "Oh yes. That's what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey, that was my name." He smiles at the memory.

I resist the urge to mutter something disrespectful like 'Senile' or 'getting old there'. Because these boys would have my blood and I don't really have anything against the old man unless you count the horrid way he treats the rowdier half of the hobbit brigade.

"Gandalf." Gimli says smiling.

"_I_ am Gandalf the White." He says impressively. "And I come back to you now. At the turn of the tide.

He acquires a cloak from somewhere that is not unlike our own Lorien cloaks.

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins." He says, well actually he's ranting but that's ok. Ranting is sorta his element isn't it? "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

Peachy.

"Edoras?" Gimli asks, clearly displeased. "That is _no_ short distance."

"We hear of trouble in Rohan." Aragorn says, ignoring Gimli's remark. "It goes ill with the King."

"Yes," Gandalf agrees. "And it will not be easily cured."

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli said fretfully. " Are we to leave those poor hobbits in this horrible dark, dank tree-infested…"

There was a huge rumbling around us, as if the trees were deeply offended.

I shiver and scoot closer to my brother.

Ugh, I know it's pathetic, after all they're just trees. But how often do you come across a forest that you know full well can jump you at any moment?

Proves that my fears aren't _extremely_ unfounded.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years." Gandalf said looking about him. "The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stoned that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

Is it just me or does that sound just _so_ cool?

"A thing is about to happen here," he continued after sharing a laugh with Aragorn. "That has not happened since the Elder days. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

"Strong?" Gimli repeated disbelievingly. "Oh, that's good." He finished looking around warily.

"So stop your fretting Master Dwarf." Gandalf said in an admonishing tone. " Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

With that, the old wizard walked ahead, leaving us to follow along.

"This new Gandalf's more grumpy than the old one." Gimli muttered before stomping along.

"I agree Gimli." I said in a dignified way and elbowed Boromir as he snorted behind me.

OoO 

Once outside the forest, Gandalf let out a piercing whistle that would have called all dogs within range of hearing to him.

Unfortunately there aren't any dogs around.

Wouldn't it have been funny though, if there were about fifty dogs around and they all jumped him?

Ok, fine so maybe it's not that funny…and maybe just _maybe_ I'm being a tad mean.

Oooh…that horse is fucking beautiful…

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." Legolas said admiringly.

Wooh boy, that is one purdy horse.

It halts in front of Gandalf and shakes it's head as if to greet the wizard.

"Shadowfax." Gandalf said, bowing in respect. "Is the Lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers."

Ta da! And we're off! Once again on board horses flying 'with all speed', according to Gandalf, to Edoras.

Thankfully, I had no more mishaps on board my horse that by that way, I was not told the name of.

How rude of Eomer.

But then again, I guess I should have expected it…after all I'm a _woman_.

Geez, the way they make it out it's as if women here are all utterly helpless creatures.

Damn…have they _not_ seen Eowyn?

Oh…but then again, they wouldn't have yet seen her bravery because she hasn't shown it yet…and Eomer's probably disapproving of it anyways.

Stupid chauvinistic males!

OoO 

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld." Gandalf said pausing in front of a city on top of a hill. "There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong."

Oh dear…

My wound is throbbing. I reach backwards into my pack and fumble for the phial.

I hear the cantering of hooves and feel a hand pulling the phial for me. I turn.

"Here," Legolas says opening the phial for me.

"Thank you." I mutter taking the small bottle from him and taking a swig from it.

I breathe deeply as he takes the phial and replaces it on my pack.

"You alright lass?" Gimli asks from behind Legolas on Arod.

"Yeah." I answer, smiling. Then we ride on to Edoras.

"Be careful what you say." Gandalf warned as we approached the Hall. "Do not look for welcome here."

"How encouraging." I hear Boromir mutter.

I shush him, smirking as we enter Edoras and ride up to the golden hall.

Uh… yeah… I think I agree with Boromir now…this is certainly _very_ cheerful…the looks of suspicion have _definitely_ replaced the proper welcoming looks.

I hear it's all the rage in Mordor…

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli muttered quietly as we drew closer to Meduseld.

See my point?

We hop off our horses and climb up the stairs.

Once we reach the top, a group of guards walk out of the hall to greet us.

Sticklebacks, they don't look happy…

"Ah," Gandalf said happily, in an I'm-getting-my-way sort of voice.

Lucky him.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed Gandalf Greyhame." Said whom I discerned to be the leader of the lot, as he was the only one without a helmet. "By order of…Grima Wormtounge."

Ooh, I sense some hostility there…I take it you're not particularly amiable with this Grima person.

Gandalf nods at us and we surrender our weapons.

You know how they only showed Gimli giving up _one_ axe in the movies?

Well, lookie here, he's brought out exactly _eleven_-count them eleven- axes.

He looks none to happy about it, I don't mind telling you.

Aragorn…well you know him. A sword, a dagger, that nifty blade from Celeborn, another dagger, a bow and quiver, and _another dagger_ comprised his arsenal.

Boromir's was somewhat similar to this, except his was slightly more devoid of daggers.

Legolas handed over his prized Galadhrim bow and quiver. Now, he is _pissed_. He reaches over his shoulder and whips out his twin blades, giving them a little twirl that makes me think that he might just gut someone with them when they're returned.

And now, are you prepared for the _wonderful_ manners of the Rohirrim?

I tap a soldier on the shoulder. "You taking my weapons or not?" I ask.

He just stares.

"What?" I ask frowning.

"You-You're a woman!" he exclaims as though it were a sin.

"Brilliant!" I say condescendingly, clapping my hands and pointing at his shoes. "Now can you tell me what _that_ is?"

A few of the other soldiers laugh at this. I shove my weapons into his arms.

"Your staff." The ginger-haired dude said, gesturing at Gandalf's staff.

"Eh?" Gandalf asks blankly. "Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

The dude purses his lips and pauses, thinking. He gives Gandalf a look and lets us pass. Gandalf drops a huge wink at us and leans on Legolas' arm.

I throw one last glare at the guard holding my weapons and enter the hall.

It actually feels good to finally be out of the sun and into somewhere cool for a change.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden, King." Gandalf said approaching the throne.

Sitting beside the king was the most loathsome looking man I have ever laid eyes on. He looked as pale as death and seemed to have as much backbone as a squid.

I mean, hello? Have you _never_ heard of a thing called the Sun?

I've spent two months out in the sun and I've never melted.

But then again, I _was_ under a cloak most of the time…and there wasn't really any light in Moria except for Gandalf's crystal thing.

But… 

The point is: he should really spend a bit more time in the sun.

And as for their king, well, it just makes me question the observation skills of people here…

I mean, they're worse than me!

How can you _not_ notice a person looks more than half dead?

What have they been _feeding _him?

Note to self: make sure to check with the chef regarding the food they make before eating anything served in Rohan.

Very good.

"Why should I welcome _you_ Gandalf Stormcrow?" Theoden the zombie asked.

"A just question my liege." Stated Grima, standing up. "_Late_ is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest." He grinned maliciously.

Ugh, now _that_ is a sight I could have done without.

"Be silent!" Gandalf snarled. "Keep your forked tongue between your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm!"

Go Gandalf!

He raised his staff and Grima recoiled as though he had been burned.

"His staff!" Grima howled, backing away. "I _told_ you to take the wizard's staff!"

Huh, and _I'm _the woman?

Guards come rushing into the room trying to stop Gandalf.

Ah, the fight begins.

Oh bollocks, I have no great aptitude for hand-to-hand combat. Hal said so himself.

Oh dear…

I throw a punch and feel it collide with flesh.

Ugh, that was unpleasant.

I open my eyes, which I had unknowingly closed, and saw that I had hit him square on the nose.

Hmm…this beginner's luck thing isn't so bad.

I hear a groan from behind me and turn.

I gave Legolas a surprised look. "He was about to hit you." He answered shrugging.

Oh…kay…

We continue fisting the guards.

Well actually, all I did was duck. I'm particularly useless at this. So Legolas ended up having to defend me most of the time.

Dammit.

Then, quite suddenly, there weren't any more guards. They were all on the floor.

Gimli put a foot on Grima's chest. "I would stay still if were you." He growled.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf said, now in front of Theoden. "I release you from this spell."

Then, Theoden laughs, a cold mirthless laugh that made my hair stand on end. That is one _creepy_ laugh.

And he just keeps on laughing…isn't that great?

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey." He said all cackling and whatnot.

Gandalf throws aside his cloak, pissed I tell you, and Theoden gasps. Maybe it's because he didn't expect that to be underneath the cloak, or maybe it's because of the bright light Gandalf was emitting. I don't really know.

"I will draw you Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf cried.

He then proceeds to exorcise, or whatever you wanna call it, Saruman from Theoden.

Eowyn rushes into the room and makes for Theoden but gets stopped by Aragorn.

Oh dear… I don't think Arwen will be please if she ever learned of this…

Actually, I'm a bit disappointed that I never got to see Imladris… I'm sure Arwen would've been awesome. As well as the sons of Elrond and all the studly elves.

"If I go-Theoden dies." Cried Saruman's voice threateningly.

"You did not kill me- you will not kill him." Gandalf answered jabbing at Theoden with his staff.

"Rohan is mine."

"Be gone!" he hollered.

Theoden jumps up and with one last jab; Gandalf throws him back into his seat.

I watch, as Eowyn breaks free of Aragorn's grip and rushes towards the King.

They whisper to each other for a few moments before the king turns to Gandalf.

"Gandalf?" he asks as though he weren't there.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," he said smiling.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." He muttered looking around somewhat blearily.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better—if they grasped your sword." Said Gandalf.

You tell him whitey!

The dude who had taken our weapons now walked over to the throne holding a sword.

Theoden, who was now thankfully more human looking, grasped the sword and pulled it out.

With one infuriated glare on his face, he turned around to look at Grima who was cowering in a corner.

Geez, grow a backbone why don't you?

The guards picked Grima up and dragged him out of the hall. Once outside, they throw him out and he rolls down the stairs.

"Agh! I've only _ever_ served you my lord." He said blood pooling at the side of his mouth.

I take a step towards him, with the intention of helping him stand up but a hand closes on my arm. I turn to see Legolas. Why am I not surprised?

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

"I'm going to help him." I whisper back. "No one deserves to be treated like his. It's inhumane."

He holds me firmly in place and turns back to Theoden who was stumbling down the steps in a surprisingly menacing way towards Grima.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" he shouted.

"Send me not from your side." Grima pleaded.

Uh—ok…he's losing my sympathy…I mean, he's already been caught. Why deny it when the proof's standing right in front of him holding a big sharp sword?

Theoden raises his sword, prepared to strike when Aragorn rushes forward to stop him.

"No my Lord!" he said pulling down the sword. "No my Lord. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

He turns towards Grima and offers a hand to pull him up.

I stare as he moves to spit on the hand Aragorn offered.

"Bastard." I mutter. You're lucky he stuck up for you, you sniveling piece of filth! And to think I almost helped this guy!

On my left Boromir nods his head in agreement.

We watch as Grima runs off through the crowd shouting at them to get out of his way.

Asshole.

"Hail Theoden, King!" Aragorn calls, kneeling. Everyone else follows suit.

"Do I have to?" I whine at the other three beside me.

"Yes Sam." Boromir answers and pushes me down.

"I'm disowning you." I tell him annoyed.

"Ah, but do you have your senses about you?" he asks.

"What?" I mutter, nonplussed.

"I seem to remember you saying that you would disown me when you got your senses back." He said grinning.

"So?"

"Forgive me little sister, but it does not seem as if those senses of yours have returned so you cannot disown me." He said looking very pleased with himself.

I smack him upside the head. "I hate you." I mutter as we stand up.

"I love you too little sister." He says laughing.

"Where is Theodred?" came Theoden's voice. "Where is my son?"

Note to self: avoid light-hearted banter with brother when someone has just died as it can be considered very insulting and insensitive.

**A/n: waddya think? Tell me about it in a review! Now, you! Yes, you! The one who just read this story! Click the nifty purple button a little ways down and type a few words! It'll make me happy! A happy writer equals to longer chapters and quicker updates! Now go on! Btw, Aya013, ArwenEvenstar83 and JustMe, I LOVE you guys! You never fail to review! **


	14. near misses and ooh more walking

**a/n: it's the 18th and it's my birthday! Let's hope you're having a better day than I am.. enjoy.. and please review if you can be bothered to do so..**

**-Sam-**

"You need not come to the funeral." A voice behind me said.

I turned around to see Boromir.

"Theodred's funeral?" I repeat. "Why not?"

"You should take the time to rest."

I frowned. "I'm fine Boromir."

"No you are not." He said giving me a pointed look. "You are staying here."

"And if I don't?" I challenge, glaring at him.

He glares right back, very heatedly.

Ooh, scary man…

"Then I shall strap you down!" he answered. "Then you shall have no other alternative."

Damn him…

"Fine." I mutter exasperated. "_Fine_."

He shakes his head and turns to leave the room.

Stupid brother.

I plop down onto the chair and pushed my hair out of my eyes letting out a growl of annoyance.

Ugh!

"My lady," came another voice, a different one.

I turn around to see Eowyn carrying Keiko and my other weapons.

"Oh, hello Lady Eowyn." I greet heaving a sigh.

She hands me my weapons and looks at my clothing. "Does it not get uncomfortable?"

I stare. "What?"

"Your clothes." She said, gesturing at my tunic and pants.

Ah, I don't think she's ever worn anything of the sort. A shield maiden of Rohan is expected to be well… a maiden…

What was my point?

"No." I answer, putting my weapons down. "It's actually very comfortable."

"I never caught your name…" she says slightly abashed.

I smile at her. "It's Samantha. But I like to be called Sam."

She nods. "What is it like, traveling with warriors such as your companions?"

She looks interested.

I pause, thinking.

"Perilous." I answer. "Because of the dangers you have to face. Annoying. Because you can't get a second's worth of privacy amidst all those men. But you learn to love them, no matter how infuriating because they're all you've got."

Which is true…

Gandalf is well… Gandalf…

Aragorn's always the leader… stern, proud and well…umm…rangerly….

Boromir is overprotective, sarcastic and oftentimes amusing when he's not in my face about something…

Gimli is funny, sarcastic brave and honest…you can't help but like him. Height, beard, metal, axe, smell and all.

Legolas…well he's studly…but we all know that. But aside from that, he's nice. He's quiet, yeah, but he cares. And he's smart, guess that comes as a pre-requisite when you're an elf-prince.

Who knew?

Ignore that…

"Is there anything you need?" she asks.

I think and immediately begin to redden.

"Well…" I began. "Truth be told… I'm in serious need of a bath."

She stares.

Uhm… I think I know how crappy I look without you staring at me…

"Er—well you see we haven't really had time for such necessities during our travel and—I uh…"

I trailed off as she started laughing and I realize, uncomfortably, how clean she is and how I must look like crap compared to her.

"What's so funny?" I demand in outrage.

It certainly isn't something to laugh about just because you're cleaner than me!

"Oh, my… I'm sorry Sam." She said stifling her laughter. "This way."

I sighed and followed her to a door of a room on the far left side of the large hall-slash-room I was in. my eyes grew wide when I saw that there was a tub in it filled with water.

"I'm afraid no one can be spared to light the coals." She said apologetically.

"Oh, no it's quite alright." I answer eyeing the tub of glorious water.

"I'll lay out some clothing for you in the adjoining room." She says pointing to a door and exiting.

Ah, glorious, glorious water!

I seriously haven't had a decent bath since Lorien and I feel so disgustingly grimy.

It's sickening.

I don't know _how_ Aragorn puts up with it.

Your clothes get all stiff and everything feels gritty. Then of course the dirt and sweat will make horrible stains. Try picturing this: your clothes are brown and yellow with all the unpleasantries and that's not counting the orc-blood from the battles.

Also, there's the matter of grass and leaves and _more_ dirt getting into your hair.

_Plus_, there's also the dirt and grime you get on your face during battles and sleeping on the ground.

Ugh!

It's horrible.

Just horrible.

And it's kinda embarrassing when you're placed beside Eowyn who is like, clean and fucking immaculate compared to me and all my muddy gear.

A half hour later I emerge from the tub feeling wonderful

Who cares if it's cold?

Who cares if it's freezing?

I'm clean!

Oh joy!

Now it's off to get dressed.

Here's hoping Eowyn had enough sense to get me pants and not a dress.

--

Oh dear…

It's a dress!

It's another dress!

No!

I don't _do_ dresses!

I stare at the blue thing that was in front of me.

"You do not like it?" Eowyn asks looking crestfallen. "I assumed you would like it…'Tis not very intricate."

Oh dear…she looks flustered.

I hold up a hand shivering slightly in the robe I had taken from the previous room.

"Whoa, whoa, cool it. It's not that I don't like the dress, it's just that I'm not comfortable _wearing_ dresses."

She looks convinced by that explanation and complies when I ask her to get my pack.

I get dressed behind a screen and we walk back to the hall thing and sit down, a tray of food is on the table.

Good thing too…I'm ravenous.

"Now," I say after swallowing a bite of bread. "Do you suppose there's any way for me to join the funeral without my companions noticing?"

She looks confused.

"Why do you wish to hide from them?" she asks.

"Boromir doesn't want me to go." I explain. "He said I should take the time to rest and such, because we haven't had any for the past few days. Basically he thinks that just because they're older than me they can boss me around. I'm going as a respect to your uncle and to prove them wrong."

She blinks a few times guess she wasn't expecting that… I shrug.

She smiles, and I notice for the first time how tired that smile is…like she's carrying the weight of the world.

"Would it not be better to go for a more direct approach?" she asks. "Instead of hiding, why not face them head on?

I break into a grin, it's evil and both of us know it.

I like this girl.

"What d'you have in mind?"

OoO 

We ended up talking for at least a half-hour and it had nothing to do with the funeral. I think she was glad to have an excuse to forget about the sorrows that faced her that afternoon and just have fun with a fellow female.

But now, here we are.

I follow the march down to the funeral pyre, head down.

There's nothing like a funeral to help you think about life. It's so fleeting…

I look at the corpse of the King's son and can't help but wonder, did he know he was going to die when he woke up that morning and rode with his company to wherever it was they were supposed to go?

I wonder if he himself questioned why his father didn't even visit him during his hours of suffering. I wonder if this knowledge was what killed him in the first place.

Knowing that his father had forsaken him, could he perchance, have chosen death to escape the pain his soul was feeling?

Eowyn sang as they lowered his body into the pyre, looking close to tears.

I never realized from watching the movies and reading the books just how dark these times were.

People lost so much… their homes, their livelihood, and their loved ones…

I can't help but wonder, during the wars that plagued my own world, did anyone ever stop to ponder what the loss would feel like?

Did anyone think of the mothers and wives and sisters left at home and what they felt about being ripped apart with the ones they loved?

"Sam," Boromir whispered putting a hand on my shoulder and steering me back towards Meduseld.

I follow, unblinkingly and then, feeling a sudden urge, I turn. I gazed at Theoden and Gandalf.

I feel for the king. I really do. He's a father who just lost a son, not an heir, a son. And he wasn't even able to tell him how much he cared before he died.

It makes me wonder…

Is that how my father feels at this very moment?

Is he, perhaps, thinking that I'm dead?

Is he mourning?

Boromir ushers me forward and I space out. My Uncle Albert once told me that the loss of a child is unbearable to a parent. He said he'd much rather lose all his possessions than his kids.

At the time, I didn't really understand, and I can't say I do now.

At least, not completely.

But right now, it didn't matter that we were riding out to war, because all I could think about was my Dad and how much I wanted to see him again.

OoO 

"Lass," came a gruff voice I recognized to be Gimli's. "Lass wake up."

I opened my eyes and blinked haphazardly at the beard that swam in front of my eyes.

I fell asleep, heh, go figure.

"I'm up," I answer, sitting up. "I'm up."

"Is she awake Master Dwarf?" Aragorn's head asked peeking into the room.

"Aye." Gimli answered.

"What's happening?" I ask looking for something to get my hair out of my face.

"We make for Helm's Deep." Boromir answers, he looks pissed.

"Oh," I answer and add, just for the hell of it. "And that's bad?"

"Yes," he answered picking up his weapons.

"Why?"

"Because there is no way out of the mountains, Gandalf said so himself." He said frowning. "They will gain nothing but death."

I sigh. This is going to be a _long_ trek.

"You best suit up Sam," came Legolas voice from behind me. "We leave in a few minutes."

"Great." I mutter. "You couldn't wake me up earlier could you?"

"We could." Boromir admits. "But we enjoy seeing you panic."

I glare at them and swear under my breath.

"Assholes."

I run around the room packing loaves of bread and fruit in my pack as well as some new articles of clothing someone laid out for me.

Stupid companions continue to laugh at me as I slip and stumble around.

Arsewipes the whole lot of them!

"When you're done laughing your heads off at my expense, maybe one of you could hand me the phial in my pack. My shoulder's aching again."

Legolas stops laughing and walks over to me, phial in hand.

Aw, he looks concerned. Too bad I saw you laughing buddy boy.

"You have not been drinking it often enough have you?" he asks accusingly.

I snatch the phial from his grasp and take a swig. "Of course I have." I snap at him.

I'm lying, why yes I am.

"You lie." He said looking at me.

Oh no…

"Don't look at me like that!" I say annoyed.

"Like what?" he answers.

"Like you can see through me." I retort, wrinkling my nose.

He looks confused.

I sigh and try to imitate the look he gives me. "There like that."

Boromir snickers and Legolas breaks into a smile.

"Oh." He says. "I think I understand now."

I thwack Boromir upside the head. "Stop laughing!"

I turn back to Legolas. "You have not been taking your medicine as often as you should be."

It's a statement now, not a question.

"How would you know?"

"It would have stopped aching by now." He answers, shaking his head. "Would it truly kill you to try?"

"Grumble, grumble." I answer and reach for my belt.

I tie it around my waist and fumble with the straps.

Legolas gives an exasperated sigh and ties my belt for me.

Oh dear, he's in close proximity. Too close…

I look up to find his face close to mine.

Am I blushing?

Oh, guess I am.

He places a hand gently on my cheek. "You must take better care of yourself."

A knock came on the door.

Glory halleluiah!

We all turn.

"My lords and lady," a young boy said bowing as he opened the door. "We are leaving. The king is asking for you."

He exits and I turn away from Legolas and pick up my things.

That was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life.

I walk out ignoring Boromir's knowing smirk and join Gimli, who had gone ahead without my noticing, and Aragorn.

We put our things on a horse and climbed on.

We're going to Helm's deep, oh joy!


	15. a unicameral form of idiosyncrasy

**Chapter 15: a unicameral form of idiosyncrasy**

**-Sam-**

I would just like to take this time, while we're walking to Helm's Deep, to say that I am truly pathetic.

But not in the sense that I can't do anything…

On the contrary, I can do a lot of things.

Ok, so I don't really know what those things are half of the time but that's beside the point.

It's more or less because I did something so utterly cliché it hurts.

Not following?

Let me elaborate.

I'm in love.

And if that's not pathetic enough, I'm in love with someone I could never be with.

And it made me realize for the first time that it never really matters that you avoid love altogether… it never really matters how unreachable the person is…because in the end, nothing really matters.

The heart makes its decision, regardless of the consequences and whether we want it to or not.

Ain't that just a kick in the head?

I absolutely love the dude and I have to live with the fact that all I'll be able to do is fantasize.

It really, really sucks to be me sometimes.

"You are quiet." Legolas says softly, falling into step beside me.

I look up at him and give a small smile. "So are they." I said gesturing towards the people of Rohan.

"Aye," he says, nodding. "But your silence is for a different reason I deem."

"Maybe." I mutter thoughtfully.

OoO 

Damn.

I wish I could've met Arwen. Maybe then I could justify Aragorn's actions.

I mean, I know he thinks she's sailing over to Valinor but… he and Eowyn are just so frecking cuddly I want to throw stuff at them.

Large, heavy, _hard_ stuff.

Everybody pulls up as we set up camp for the night. Once everything was set up, I walk over to the cooking section and was just about to ask for some foodstuffs to convert to something edible when Eowyn walks up to me.

"Tis alright Sam." She said smiling brightly. "I already made some stew."

Oh. Crap.

I smile and nod.

At least…I _think_ it's a smile.

Might be more of a grimace to be honest. I haven't forgotten that Eowyn can't cook.

Luckily she didn't seem to notice anything peculiar about my expression.

Thank god for the dim light of the evenings.

I sit down next to Gimli, Boromir and Legolas. Eowyn came shortly after, carrying a pot of stew.

She offers it to each of us who accept, except for Legolas.

Gimli examines his bowl gingerly with a spoon.

I resist the urge to laugh.

I look up to see Eowyn looking expectantly at us.

Damn, that means I have to take an actual bite of this… er—concoction of sorts.

I would throw this into the fire, but my manners prevent me from being so impulsive.

So instead of breaking it to her, we all take massive spoonfuls of the 'stew' and shovel them into our traps.

I watch as Boromir and Gimli try not to wince and I myself, try not to splutter.

"Is it any good?" she asks anxiously.

Eowyn, you're lucky you can fight well… cause honey you just _can't_ cook.

We all nod, lying to the teeth.

Damn manners, damn manners to hell and back.

"Do you think Lord Aragorn would like it?"

Legolas looks up and he and Boromir grin at each other, maliciously. But oh is it well disguised.

Damn these boys are good.

"Oh yes." Boromir answers sweetly.

"He will love it." Legolas adds. Nothing like adding fuel to the fire eh Legolas?

Eowyn walks off, a huge smile on her face.

I pour my 'stew' into the fire as soon as she's out of sight.

"Ugh, that is _so_ not good. That isn't even anywhere _near_ good." I mutter.

Gimli grunts in agreement and follows suit. He leans back, massaging his stomach.

"Is there nothing decent to eat around here?' he mutters.

I stand up.

"Where are you off to?" Legolas asks, looking up.

"I am going on a pilgrimage." I answer rolling my shoulders.

"Dare we ask where?" Boromir mutters from his seat.

"If you _must_ know dear brother, I am going to the cook to see if I can rustle up some grub for us." I snap at him. "I don't know about you three but I am sick of lembas and I want to eat meat."

"Aye lass." Gimli said agreeing whole-heartedly. "I could do with some meat. Off yeh get."

I grin at Gimli and walk off.

OoO 

Sigh.

Nothing like a good meal to make you feel contented even though you're marching into a mountain prison where you're likely to get killed by Uruk-hai.

I did good.

Even though, truth be told, that was only pork, beans and tomatoes.

I just improvised.

I'm good at that.

Note to self: next time Eowyn stops you from cooking, ignore her, so as to ensure that you and other companions actually get something decent to eat.

Alrighty.

I massage my wounded shoulder gingerly. Damn, I think I shouldn't have forgotten to drink my medicine for two days.

Ow.

"You are still pained by your wound?" Boromir asks, seeing me.

I nod.

"The pain should have subsided by now." Legolas says, confused.

He walks over to me and sits down.

"You have not been drinking the medicine." He states frowning at me.

Er—

"Of course I have!" I protest.

He gives me a piercing a stare and arches one perfect eyebrow.

Dammit, I _hate_ it when he does that!

It makes me feel like Plexiglas.

"Fine, I haven't drunk any for two days now, I keep forgetting. Now lower that eyebrow of yours before I rip it off your pretty face." I snap at him.

He smirks.

I glare.

Boromir suddenly has a coughing fit, which, come to think of it, might be a poorly disguised laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

Legolas sighs and pulls out the phial from my pack.

"Drink." He says, handing it to me.

"What if I don't want to?" I challenge.

Normally, I would just follow whatever it is he's telling me to do, but that look on Boromir's face is going to be infuriating before long.

"Need I remind you, my lady, that I could easily tie you up and force you to drink?" he asked sweetly.

I didn't answer. I looked into the fire and ignored him.

"Now you have done it Master Elf," Boromir said outright laughing now. "She is sulking."

Legolas sighed impatiently.

"Sam…"

I ignored him.

"Sam," he repeated in a gentler tone. "Will you not take the proper dose of your medicine? It will make the pain subside."

I stared at him before sighing.

I hate myself.

How could I refuse with those goddamned puppy-eyes staring at me?

"Fine." I answer resignedly. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate medicine?

Well, I'm saying it now.

OoO 

I walked slowly in the semi-darkness, carefully stepping over the sleeping bodies of the people.

Oof.

"Oh, ow." I groan, falling to the ground.

"I'm sorry; I did not see you Sam." The voice said holding out a hand.

Oh, it's Aragorn.

"Its fine Aragorn, don't worry about it." I answer brushing myself off.

He nods and walks off.

I pause.

Should I do something about him and Eowyn?

I mean, I like Eowyn and all but…

What the hey.

"Aragorn," I call turning around. Aragorn stops and looks at me.

"Yes?"

I walk over to him and smile sweetly.

"I may not have met her Aragorn, but you would do well to remember."

He looks confused. "What?"

"One word: Undomiel." I told him quietly, as I touched the pendant that hung on his neck.

And with that, I turned around and walked back to the others.

OoO 

I sat beside the fire, trying to ignore Gimli's snores as he slept.

I look around at the sleeping people and sigh.

This is just too depressing.

And, I'm bored. I can't sleep.

A noise catches my attention and I turn to see a group of little girls, not very far from our own little campsite, playing.

Disregarding the fact that it was much too late for them to be playing, I couldn't help but smile to myself as the wind carried the sound of their laughter towards us.

"What is it?" asked a voice, coming to sit beside me.

I turned to see Legolas, should've expected that.

I pointed towards the girls and smiled.

They were chasing each other, in a game that reminded me of tag.

Of course, I don't think they call it tag, but that's what it looked like to me.

I felt a pang as I recalled how we used to play that game when I was little.

Of course, I don't think there's anyone in my world that doesn't know that game, it's universal.

I hear another delighted giggle and saw a particularly tiny girl hold up a ball.

It's a beautiful sight.

"Aye, it is." Legolas agreed.

Whoops, said that out loud.

I should really work on that.

It's a nice reprieve looking at these little girls.

It's a nice change from living in a world of war and destruction, where you're constantly on the lookout for an enemy.

It's nice to know that even through these dark times children will always be children.

A soft thump sounded at my feet, and I look up, realizing that I had spaced out.

_Again_.

That's another thing I should work on.

I pick up the ball and examine it.

"Where'd this come from?" I asked looking at the sky.

Legolas nudged me and looked pointedly at the edge of our camp.

I followed his gaze and saw that the little girl, the tiny one, yeah, was standing at the edge of our little campsite, twiddling her thumbs, wide-eyed with fear.

I gesture for her to come over and she does, slowly.

Boy, I've never seen anyone this scared for a long time.

When she finally reaches me I smile kindly down at her.

"Is this yours?" I ask gently, so as not to frighten the tiny thing. Honestly, she has to be no more than five.

She nods looking at the ground.

I put a finger under her chin and turn her face upwards.

"You got a name kiddo?"

"She-Sheli my lady." She answered timidly.

"Why do you look so scared?" I asked her in concern.

"I- I saw you when you came to Edoras. You are a warrior, I saw your sword."

I smile. "Yes, you're right I am a warrior, and so are my companions. But that's no reason to be afraid, we won't harm you. Would you like to sit down?"

She nods and sits down beside Legolas. The little girl had thick black hair that fell in ringlets around her small face, and big blue eyes. She even had trouble pronouncing the letter r; it came out as a w.

She was actually quite adorable.

"How old are you child?" Legolas asked.

She holds up one hand. "This many."

Aww, that's so cute.

"Where's your Mamma Sheli?" I asked. "Is she sleeping?"

She nods and points over to a campsite.

"Mamma's over there." She answered.

"What about your Papa?"

The little girl looks sadly down at the grass by her feet. "Papa…Papa was with Prince Theodred. Mamma says he went away for a while…"

Oh…

Oh dear…

That means her father's dead.

Ambushed by orcs.

--

"You handled that well." Legolas told me once Sheli had gone back to her mom.

I hung my head and didn't answer.

Sheli's plight wasn't so far from my own after all.

She had lost a father, and I had lost mine.

In the end, I had asked Sheli if she was hungry and fed her some of the leftover stew I had.

And when her mother woke up and came looking for her I smiled and gave her the pot.

"Thank you my lady, thank you." She said, gratefully.

"No problem." I answered

Sheli's mother was nice. And you could tell how relived she was to find her little girl.

I wish my mother had been like that.

"Sam?" Legolas peered at me in concern. "What is it? Why do you weep?"

I'm crying?

I reach up and feel my cheeks, they're wet.

Oh poopie, I am crying.

"It isn't fair." I whisper crying all the more.

Oh damn, I have no control over myself do I?

"What is not fair?" he asks putting his hands on my shoulder.

"_This_," I gesture to the people sleeping all around us, to Sheli. "All of it. It's not fair. Look at that little girl; she doesn't deserve to lose a parent at such a young age! What does Saruman think he's playing at? So many lives are at stake…and for what? For a _ring_! For a stupid bloody ring! Why is power so important? What about them?"

I pointed again to the children. "Doesn't anyone see that this will affect _them_ most of all? Don't they understand how pointless this all is?"

By now I had been reduced to a useless teary-eyed mass, but Legolas held me. He whispered elvish nothings into my ear and stroked my hair to soothe me.

Before long I succumbed to the inevitable and fell into sleep.

OoO 

God hates me.

He does, he's punishing me for being a non-believer.

I'm gonna cry…

I'm blushing so much I'm going to have an aneurism soon.

Oh, I'm sorry; I'm not making sense am I?

Remember last night, when I was crying my eyes out like a pathetic little female?

Well, I fell asleep as you may recall, and was so rudely awoken by my adopted brother's laughter and Gimli's whooping.

So my first thought was: '_Now_ what are those two yabbering about?"

I hadn't opened my eyes at that point in time yet, because I still wanted to sleep.

So instead of rising and opening my eyes, I chose to ignore them and snuggle closer into my warm pillow.

And that's when I realized, PILLOW?

I don't _have_ a pillow!

We don't _use_ pillows!

And why the bloody hell is it _warm_?

So, eyes still pressed firmly shut (in case it's some sort of animal), I placed my hands in front of me and pressed gently on whatever it was.

And do you know what I felt?

Leather.

Mm-hmm.

Leather.

_A leather clad chest._

Oh, crap.

Then I breathed in the scent of pine.

Oh shit.

Oh shitstick, pie and corn noodles!

My eyes snapped open and who should I see?

None other than Legolas, son of Thranduil aka Prince of the woodland realm!

Needless to say, I was shocked out of my pants—figuratively speaking of course.

I jumped up with a scream.

Thus waking the pretty elf that had his arms around me.

Then, I started sputtering and rambling.

Here are a few samples of my incoherent statements:

"Whug!"

"But— you!" point wildly at elf. "And—I don't!" stare around wild-eyed.

"Narf!"

"Sleep— cry—but!"

"No, Ugh!"

And with that I stormed off leaving three very confused (and amused) males behind me.

Sod, sod, _SOD_ it!

God hates me, there's no other reason behind it.

OoO 

_THWACK. THWACK._

"Sam?" came a voice from somewhere above my table of sorrow.

I'm being melodramatic, yes, shut up.

"What are you doing?"

"_Thwack_-I'm-_Thwack. Thwack_- trying to see how many-_Thwack-_ times I have to-_Thwack _

_Thwack, thwack_-hit myself before I- _thwack_- die."

Why yes, I am hitting my head on the table.

I hear an exasperated sigh coming from Aragorn.

"Would this perchance have anything to do with a certain incident this morning?" he asked shrewdly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I answer, still thwacking my head on the table.

Hey, first rule of life: if you get into trouble, always try the innocent tactic first. If that fails, be creative.

"No indeed." He said, raising an eyebrow. "Then you would not mind it so much that you and Legolas will be placed beside each other from now on.

"_WHAT?"_ I shrieked.

Aragorn grinned. "Ah."

I glared at him and muttered, "I'm going to kill Boromir."

"Twas not your brother who told me." He said gently.

I stared at him. "Then who did? Gimli?"

He shook his head. "The elf himself did. He said he was trying to comfort you last night and you fell asleep in his arms."

I burned scarlet again. I hate being a woman.

Stupid tears.

Ugh!

"Don't look at me like that Aragorn, I have no idea what you're talking about. But I'm going to kill Boromir."

"Of course Sam." He said knowingly. "Of course."

Arsehole.

OoO 

Ugh, and we're walking again.

I truly am so sick of traveling, marching and running.

I would like to point out that I haven't had any proper sleep in days and the one night that I did I woke up beside an elf.

Although, let me tell you, I wouldn't mind sleeping in his arms again.

The chap is very well toned and huggable.

And—oh yum!

Ugh!

Bad thoughts! Very bad thoughts!

I'll stop now, before I inflict cooties upon myself.

Ugh!

I am now rather scared of going to sleep, for fear of waking up beside someone who I should not be beside.

A nice, warm bed would be extremely welcome right about now though.

We've made good on our journey. We're now near the White Mountains and I'm expecting a warg attack sometime in the near and prominent future.

Thank goodness the boys are in the front of the line with Theoden.

I can't stand to look at my brother's face.

Or at Legolas' for that matter.

"WARGS!" shouted a voice a few feet away from me and Charcoal.

Yes, Charcoal is my horse.

Shut up.

I like the name; after all, he is black.

"WARGS! We are under attack!"

Oh, peachy.

I hear the worried clamor start up around me as the women fret over their lives. I climb up Charcoal and ride forward.

"All riders to the head of the column!" Theoden called.

"Sam!" Boromir calls, seeing me. "Go with the people!"

I glared at him. "No!"

"Go to Helm's Deep! _NOW_!" he shouts angrily.

I shake my head in defiance and unsheathe Keiko.

I rush forward with the rest of them.

I'll be damned if I don't fight. I'll be damned before I give up without a fight. I'll be damned before I forget about that little girl and how these misfits killed her father. I'll be damned if I leave my friends.

In the words of Merry: You would have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.

Amen to that!

With a sharp cry, we clash against each other.

Let the battle begin.

**Important a/n: holy shamoly! That was a long one! Hope you enjoyed that! Anyways, the thing is, the reason I've been able to update regularly is because I focused all of my time on this story during the last two weeks before school began. But this is the last one, and I haven't had time to write anything as of yet. So I hope you'll bear with me and wait patiently. I have a killer exam in economics on Thursday and I hafta do some revision. Imaging, _3 weeks_ in school and already I'm working like a camel! They don't know what they're playing at, honestly! But still, hope you guys understand!**

**Review responses:**

**God it's been so long since I put one of these, you're all feeling neglected aren't ya?**

**Just Me: thanks! Hope you like this one!**

**BlackRosePoison-Orchid: I've been meaning to ask, we? Are you like a group? Anyways, studly means hot, as in hella hot. Heh, anyway, you can whack Leggers on the head so long as he isn't damaged in any way. Cause if he is, I'll have your head. (kidding) heh.**

**Demee: I sent you a reply through e-mail right?**

**Wanna-be elf girl: glad you like my story. It means a lot to know that I'm doing well.**

**Aisling Jace: ooh, haven't seen you in a while! Glad you re-discovered my story and still enjoyed it! Keep reading!**

**ArwenEvenstar88: no worries, I have no intention of having it develop into a full blown romance—yet. Haha, you never know, it might, gradually, or it might not and I'm just doing this to mess with all of you. Heh.**

**Coldplaygirl: thanks a lot! A craftsman is always glad to know her work is appreciated, even though—this isn't really craftsmanship. Not really it's more of an art, according to my English teacher. Carmi? Well, as much as I'd like to get rid of her, I can't. she's still lurking around here somewhere, I have yet to check the page bottoms so maybe she's there!**

**Rockerchick: thank you so much!**

**There ya go! Click the nifty button and leave me a word or two, that's all I ask!**


	16. teaser wheezer

**a/n: hey all! Here's a little teaser to let you know that I haven't forgotten about all of you's or anything! So I've just started this and I haven't been working on it for ten minutes. Don't know when it'll be done, so watch out for it anytime! Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

**-Sam-**

_Bleeding hell!_

I'm sorry, but that just about sums this whole thing up.

Orcs and wargs are scattered around either getting decapitated or decapitating. It's just so ironic, the hillside is so beautiful and yet here we all are.

Honestly, I've been fighting the urge to run.

Not because I'm afraid, mind you, but because my stupid shoulder hurts so fricking much.

When I see Carmi, remind me to kill her.

Or torture her to insanity, whichever seems better.

"Sam!" I hear a male voice scream behind me. I turn, after beheading a leering orc.

It's Boromir, _and_ he's glaring.

_Why_, may I ask, are you glaring at me like that? I'm fighting for the same side aren't I?

"I _told_ you to go with the women and children!" he bellowed angrily, slashing fiercely at an attacking opponent.

Damn, he's good.

"Well it's too late for that now, Sherlock!" I shot back, stabbing a warg in the eye. "If I leave now, I'll do more harm than good!"

He stared at me, hard. There was a smoldering flame in his eyes that I had never seen before.

I felt my blood run cold as he slowly raised his sword. There was a naked hate in the way he stared at me, that made me take a step back.

A scream escaped from my throat as his arm shot towards me, sword poised and ready to strike. A split-second later I was on the ground, wide-eyed with fear.

Had my own adopted brother just tried to kill me?

Was disobeying his orders of staying with the women and fighting instead, with the men of Rohan enough for him to want to end my life?

**a/n: waddya think? Lemme know in a review! Click the nifty purple button ok?**


	17. horses,wargs,psychobrothers and stress

**a/n: hey all! Here's the real chapter 16! Hope you like it, and by the way I've decided to accord one of you each chapter to send in something they'd like me to add to the next chapter. Like a scene involving Eowyn and Aragorn, or a sam and Legolas love moment. You decide. This time, I have chosen the reviewer that goes by the name of anonymous! Send in your request via review! I shall be expecting it! Oh and kudos to all the people who sent in their theories1 read on to find out if you were right!**

**Chapter 16: horses, wargs, psycho brothers and stress reports….**

**-Sam-**

_Bleeding hell!_

I'm sorry, but that just about sums this whole thing up.

Orcs and wargs are scattered around either getting decapitated or decapitating. It's just so ironic, the hillside is so beautiful and yet here we all are.

Honestly, I've been fighting the urge to run.

Not because I'm afraid, mind you, but because my stupid shoulder hurts so fricking much.

When I see Carmi, remind me to kill her.

Or torture her to insanity, whichever seems better.

"Sam!" I hear a male voice scream behind me. I turn, after beheading a leering orc.

It's Boromir, _and_ he's glaring.

_Why_, may I ask, are you glaring at me like that? I'm fighting for the same side aren't I?

"I _told_ you to go with the women and children!" he bellowed angrily, slashing fiercely at an attacking opponent.

Damn, he's good.

"Well it's too late for that now, Sherlock!" I shot back, stabbing a warg in the eye. "If I leave now, I'll do more harm than good!"

He stared at me, hard. There was a smoldering flame in his eyes that I had never seen before.

I felt my blood run cold as he slowly raised his sword. There was a naked hate in the way he stared at me, that made me take a step back.

A scream escaped from my throat as his arm shot towards me, sword poised and ready to strike. A split-second later I was on the ground, wide-eyed with fear.

Had my own adopted brother just tried to kill me?

Was disobeying his orders of staying with the women and fighting instead, with the men of Rohan enough for him to want to end my life?

Cold and shaking, I pushed myself off of the ground.

What was going on?

My mind drew a blank.

Bloody hell I think I'm going into shock.

Somebody shake me.

--

Oww…

That _hurt._

Ok, asking for a shake? BAD idea.

Mainly because instead of a tiny, teensy-weensy little shove I got a full on push that sent me hurtling down a freaking slope!

Isn't that just wonderful?

Oh by the way, I figured out that whole thing with my brother and have just realized what a pathetic assuming little git I truly am.

See, there was a warg and a rider behind me.

Which, is why he was looking at "me" like I was the spawn of Satan…I think…

At least… I think that's the reason. Or he really does just hate me.

Sob.

I feel much worse about myself now, thank you deities!

"Sam!" Boromir, my brother-who-i-am-still-slightly-afraid-of-since-i-think-he-tried-to-do-me-in, called. "Hurry!"

Well, what if I _don't _wanna hurry ever thought about _that_? Hmm? _Have_ you, you chauvinistic male pigs! Just because I'm the only person with frontal lumps here doesn't mean you can order me around!

Uhmm… yeah…

I'm just weird like that.

Ignore my random mental outbursts.

Heh. Mental, which describes me in perfect context don't you think?

_Anyway_, I followed him over to a cliff where Legolas and Gimli were standing.

Wooh boy, horrible sense of foreboding here.

Something's wrong with this picture.

One, two three, four…

What's missing?

I tilted my head from side to side trying to figure out what I was missing. The boys were all staring at something but I couldn't quite figure it out.

Then it hit me.

Oh god…

_No…_

**_No_…**

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I saw Legolas' face. I've never seen anyone look so forlorn and lost in my entire life.

A voice inside me was pleading with the deities of this universe to make it all untrue. Hot salty tears trickled down my face as I stared at the pendant that I knew Aragorn would never part with, laying so cold in the elf's hand. My gaze swung towards the precipice from which he had fallen, a part of me waiting for him to climb back up.

But it wasn't going to happen.

The universe just loves us don't you think?

And here come the doubts again.

Argh!

**OoO**

The ride to Helm's deep was a bleak one for the remaining members of the fellowship.

I mean, for all we knew, our companions could already be knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door.

God, I did not just jack a song.

I guess it goes to show just how miserable I am right now…

The gates open and we ride forward. The admiring glances of the women, children and some men quickly focus on us.

It's amazing how one battle can change how people look at you.

I mean, before no one even looked twice at me. Now, they were bowing and easing me of my burdens.

"Let me help you my lady," a woman, in her early twenties said, coming forward.

I shook my head and smiled. "It's fine, thank you. I can manage."

It took a while for the people to take a hint and leave me alone but they did, eventually.

I reveled in the silence which gave me a chance to organize my thoughts.

If Aragorn died, I don't think I could stand the guilt knowing that I just cost Middle Earth its greatest hero and the future unifier of the free kingdoms of men.

I couldn't stand it.

Even though, you know…it isn't really _my_ fault.

At least…not directly.

This is too much for me to handle. Lord knows I don't do well under extremities.

God hates me, that's all there is to it.

I guess at some point, I had closed my eyes and zoned out because suddenly I heard a faint thud of a body plopping down next to me.

I opened my eyes to peep at the newcomer and was surprised to see Gimli beside me.

"Gimli?"

He nodded his head in acknowledgement and sighed.

"You alright?" I asked.

"Would that I were, lass." He answered sadly.

I said nothing but I understood completely.

Gimli may not be prone to blatant displays of affection, hell, most of the time he just grunts, but he cares. Under all that metal and hair, Gimli is one hell of a lovable character.

And the dwarf misses the studly ranger guy, just like I do.

"Buck up." I told him, forcing a grin onto my face. "Never lose hope."

He nodded, beetle black eyes glimmering in the shadow of the wall.

"Aye, as Aragorn would have said."

Yeah Gimli, as the King would've said.

**OoO**

I have found a decent room to crash in. It's got a bed, it's comfy and I like it.

All in all, I realize that this could be Eowyn's or some other noble's room.

Like hell if I care though, I need to hide.

Since that little thing with Gimli, I've been beseeched with horrendous doubt.

What if Aragorn _did_ die?

How on Arda are we supposed to survive this war without him?

Plus, I had a little conversation with Boromir earlier on.

**-_boing! Boing! Here we go!_-**

I sat in the shadows, removed from the crowd. After Gimli and I had that talk of sorts, I decided that I needed a more secluded location.

I had found a spot well into the Deeping comb that was cool and heeded by very few of the populace.

Just as I was getting comfortable, and enjoying the leisurely silence my spot afforded me, I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up to see my brother, towering above me.

He gave me a bleak smile and sat down.

"Are you well little sister?" he asked quietly.

"As well as I can be, given the circumstances." I answered.

An awkward silence stretched out between us.

I've been kinda afraid to come near him after that whole thing with the sword.

I mean, I know it's seriously whacked for me to think he'd do me in but I just…

Deep breath.

If he can kill an orc so easily, what makes me think he can't kill me just as easily, if not easier?

"You _are_ well are you not?" he said suddenly, eyeing me suspiciously.

I stare at him.

Bloody hell, I think he's bipolar or something.

"You did not injure yourself when you fell earlier on did you?" he asked, leaning forward to examine me. "That warg did not reach you, but the fall might have hurt your shoulder even more."

His brow was furrowed, concern written on his features.

I smiled, utmost relief seeping through me.

"I'm fine Boromir."

_**-boing! Boing! Let's, go kill Barney!-**_

Glad that whole thing was sorted out, as I _really_ don't wanna die yet.

A knock sounds on the door.

Oh, it's Eowyn.

"There you are Sam." She says, looking all forlorn. "We are required to help with the transferring of food and supplies for the women and children."

I nod, stand and follow her out of the room.

--

Dear corndogs and pie, Eowyn, for God's sake, could you _please_ stop moping?

You didn't even know him that well!

Gah!

Honestly, Eowyn's oh-I'm-hurting-inside-but-I'm trying-to-be-strong-but-not-quite-succeeding act is getting old real fast.

And with all the stress I've been going through today I might just snap and spear her.

But then again, I doubt the people of Rohan would appreciate it very much if I killed their beloved shield maiden.

I can never win, can I?

I think I should just accept it.

**OoO**

Ok, I know this is for the safety of the women and children and all, and I happen to fall into both categories, but this is _so_ boring.

Seriously.

I hate this kind of monotony.

And what's worse is the knowledge that even if you cried tears of blood you still couldn't do a thing because there's no other alternative.

A basket load of bread in my arms, I start walking to the assigned location.

I pass by the King's chamber where Théoden, King has been pacing around for hours.

I reached my destination, put down the basket and set of to lug another one.

I stood frozen.

Standing in front of me was the studly-kingly-ranger-dude in all his glory.

And what's more, he seems to be having a rather humorous conversation with the elven stud muffin.

I saw Legolas gingerly put something sparkly in Aragorn's hand, which come to think of it might be the Evenstar, and smiled.

Then, they noticed I was there, gawping like and idiot and turned towards me.

I had to blink a few times and pinch myself before I realized that it was really Aragorn standing before me.

And then, when I finally _did_ realize it (I'm not slow or anything, it's just you never know, it could be a hallucination, or a mirage, which is kinda the same, so it could be both), I pulled him into a tight bear hug, despite the possibility that I might crush his bones.

"You bastard!" I said into his chest, as he is waaay taller than me. "The next time you wanna fall down a freaking cliff warn me ok? I do _not_ like worrying like that. Oh screw it, the next time you take a tumble I swear I will kill you until you die. Got me, big fella?"

"I am pleased to see you again as well, little one." He answered with a smile, a kiss on the forehead and a tap.

Geez, so all I am to this group is a puppy.

Really encouraging.

And then he marched off to tell the king that the army of hell is coming to the gates of Helm's Deep and we should get ready to face our eternal demise.

Brilliant.

Fucking bloody brilliant.

I think I'm cursed.

**a/n: hey lovies! It's our first preliminary exam tomorrow. I seem to be posting a lot before exams don't I? anyway, hope you enjoyed that. I know it's short but there shall be more soon. I was supposed to do the battle in this one too but I decided not to make you wait too long because if I include the battle I won't be ready to post for another couple of days. so click the nifty button!**

**Review responses (chapter 15)**

**Aisling Jace: glad you think Sam's funny. Hope you liked this chappie!**

**Kanefire: glad you like it!**

**Arwenevenstar83: oh no, I don't plan on getting them together just yet. Or you know, like I said before, I could just be messing with you people and she might end up with someone totally different or she might get sent home. You never know.**

**Sphereshadow: thank you!**

**Aya013: writer's block? Oh you poor thing! I suggest eating lots and lots of sweets, that way your creative genes get a massive boost. **

**Coldplaygirl: sam and Legolas, getting together? I don't know, maybe I will and maybe I won't. read my response to arwenevestar83, keep reading to find out!**

**Silver sliver: thanks!**

**Just me: kudos for the idea, but no I don't think I'd achieve anything by sending Sam off the cliff. She's useless you know. And with her horrid sense of direction she'd probably do more harm than good you know?**

**Review responses (teaser)**

**Aya013: hehehe… I love cliffhangers...seriously..i'm thinking of ending every chapter after this with a cliffie. What do you think?**

**Kanefire: frustrating? Hell yeah, she's got no one to talk to. And she has to minimize all the girly stuff because of the whole man factor.**

**BlackRosepoison-Orchid: oh yeah…**

**Vatof Cocaine: glad you find it so interesting! Hope this is soon enough! Review please!**

**Whitemagpie: throws you a cookie and dances with you yes! Yes!**

**Piklejuice: here you go poppet!**

**Silver sliver: thank you so much, glad you liked it! Even though I thought it was rather sucky for a teaser.**

**Just me: here you go!**

**Anonymous: here you go love, I'm sorry if you thought it was a bit too long of a wait. Anyway, I completely understand about the whole hooked on Lotr fics thing, I am too. And that second review you sent, I dunno why but it totally cracked up at it. **

**As I said, click the nifty purple button!**


	18. broken brains and store refunds

**a/n: here you go loves, another chappie from moi! Hope you like!**

**Chapter 17: broken brains and store refunds…**

**-Sam-**

I would like to withdraw my application forthwith and abstain from any further life processes.

Uhm…

Did that make sense to anyone?

I rather hope not, cause then I would've achieved my goal.

And what, you may ask, is that goal?

Well…

Let me express my opulent desire ladies and muffins, to cause rampant confusion amongst the masses of middle earth.

And before you ask, yes, I _am_ procrastinating. I have nothing better to do with my time, what with my impending doom and all.

The one good thing I can see about this whole battle is that I get to see Hal again.

Except…

When I do…he's kinda gonna die…

I never _can_ win.

I am seriously cursed.

Seriously. You would think the higher forces would be a little more reasonable. I mean so yea, I did break that ultra-uber-mega-super-expensive Buddha things my mom bought when I was six, but it's not like it was intentional or anything! Honestly!

They were totally trying to flip me off!

"Sam," a voice called. I looked up to se Legolas towering above me.

I gave him a flippant grin. "Hey there cream puff, what have you been up to?"

He raised an eyebrow at me.

Damn, how, I ask you, can anyone _possibly_ make a weird expression look as sexy as hell?

Someone help me, I think I'm broken.

"I believe I shall opt to ignore that." He said blinking.

I laughed.

"Come, we should help with the preparations."

I nodded, grinning like a maniac for no apparent reason.

I bet I'm causing the small children severe mental scarring, but who cares?

My impending doom is looming forward; I should enjoy things while it lasts.

**OoO**

The women and children are being herded into the caves.

Sorta like cattle y'know?

Glad I'm not one of them.

"Sam!" a familiar male voice called out.

I turned to see my brother walking towards me, a grim look on his face.

Damn, I spoke too soon.

He is followed by Gimli and Aragorn.

Oh dear, he brought reinforcements.

"Yes, Boromir?" I ask sweetly.

Oh yes, I'm cruising for a bruising here.

My brother threw me a dirty look. "Do not 'Yes, Boromir' me, Samantha."

"What's eating you pardner?" I ask frowning.

"Why are you still out here?" he demands.

"Is there a reason why I _shouldn't_ be here?" I ask.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Legolas.

Brilliant.

Why don't you call the rest of Arda to join our pow-wow?

"You should be heading into the caves with the women and children!" he stormed.

I glared at him. "How many arguments do you want to have before you accept that I am _not_ going to follow orders of that nature?"

I felt my hands curling into fists.

"You are, and you _will_." He snarled.

"Why should I?" I challenged.

"Because _I_ said so."

I threw back my head and let out a disparaging laugh. "You and what authority?"

He opened his mouth to retort but I cut him off.

"You don't understand do you?" I snapped. "I can't go in there. It's all well and good that the other women and children are to be sent there but not me. Do you understand, _not_ me. I refuse to run and hide while the very force that threatens to exterminate all these children marches on our gates! And if you can't handle that Boromir, I don't care! I _refuse _to submit to your chauvinistic whims!"

I thereby marched off in a huff like any woman with a temper would.

And what's more I didn't trip, slip or stumble. Nope, not once.

At least, not until I was well out of their sight range.

Aren't you proud?

**OoO**

I'm currently holed up in some room again.

I'm so pissed off.

I mean, how can anyone expect me to do nothing when we're all being threatened?

I can't go into those caves because if I do it's like admitting that those gay-assed bastards by the name of Sauron and Saruman have won.

Besides, I'll never be able to sleep at night knowing another little girl like Sheli have lost their parent to this farce.

I don't belong here folks; it isn't my world. But I'm here, stuck, and there's nothing I can do about it.

And although, most would call me crazy, these jack-wipes aren't just fictional characters to me. They're real, as real as the clothes on your back. And I'll be bloody flipping damned if I let any harm come to them.

Oh god, you win, I _am_ crazy, spread the word.

**OoO**

Knock, knock.

The door opened with a soft click.

I looked up from my seat on the cold hard, stony floor to see Legolas.

"Whaddya want?" I muttered sullenly.

He stooped down so we were sorta eye-level.

"Your brother is only worried about you." He said softly.

"He sure has a funny way of showing it." I mumble.

I don't like fighting with Boromir, I really don't.

I mean, I just had a blow out with someone I loved like a brother all because I'm too stubborn, too foolhardy, and too idealistic in some points to agree with him.

Ah, the curse of being a 21st century woman. If a guy thinks he's better than you, more likely it's the other way around.

Hey, that's what my dad always told me.

These are the times when I really wish I had a bowl of angel's food cake mix so I could dunk my head in it.

Oh, just thought you'd like to know.

I think it'd be a rather fascinating experience dunking your head in a bowl of cake mix.

"He does not wish to lose you." He told me, extending a hand to pull me off the floor.

"I know that." I answer softly.

Man this is depressing. Somebody hand me a fluffy banana.

Ok, what?

That's it!

My brain is malfunctioning.

I demand a refund!

"What about you?" I asked him curiously. "Why aren't you helping them by strapping me to a chair and carrying me off to the caves and gagging me so I don't inflict ear problems to the populace?"

He gave an amused chuckle, which by elven standards means that he gave a teensy smile.

"Because I know from experience that it does not bode well to trifle with a fiery woman much like yourself." He said.

I raised an eyebrow.

I am broken!

Somebody call a technician darn it!

By golly I think he just paid me a compliment.

Gah, fan girl urges heightening!

_Must resist stupidity impulse!_

**OoO**

Sorry, had a moment there.

And I completely jacked that last line from fairly odd parents, which if I may say so, rocks the proverbial socks.

Gah, I miss cartoons. And internet. And by Jove, PLUMBING!

I miss civilization altogether.

Especially sweets…ooh yesh.

Now I have ventured out of the room I had cast myself into and am now walking with elf-boy who is trying to persuade a certain would-be king to rest.

"Aragorn, you must rest." He said following Aragorn through the battlements with me in tow. "You're no use to us half-alive."

See? Told you. Not as inobservant as everyone thinks.

Ok so maybe I am but that's beside the point!

I think he was just about to reply when Eowyn calls out his name.

"Aragorn! I am to be sent with the women into the caves." She cried indignantly.

Oh fiddlesticks, not another scene of their lovey-dovey ness!

"That is an honorable charge." Aragorn said softly.

Tuning out now…

Blink, blink…

Bored…

"You do not command the others to stay! They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you! What of Samantha?" she asked bitterly.

Wha?

How did I get involved in this?

"You do not command her to stay in the caves and she is but a child!"

"Woah," I protested holding my hand up. "No way are you including me in this honey. I'm an insignificant speck; you're a shield- maiden. There's a big difference."

And once more tuning out!

This has been insanimusic 99.8, thank you for listening, good night.

Man that was lame.

So Eowyn walks away and Boromir walks over to me.

Have I mentioned I'm not talking to him at the moment?

Yeah.

"Sam…" he began. "I am sorry for coming on a bit too strongly. I do not mean to undermine your abilities, as Gimli has so kindly pointed out that you saved my life. I only wish to ensure your safety, you are akin to a sister to me now, and you know this. I do not wish to lose you."

Aww…

And now ladies and muffin men, let me demonstrate what happens to an already overly sappy woman when you have her brother butter her up.

I launched myself at his neck and engulfed him in a bear hug.

"You stupid buffoon!" I said laughingly into his neck. "You're lucky I haven't disowned you yet after that stunt!"

**OoO**

We are now in the armory getting suited up.

I have never seen a bigger farce in my life.

Little boys half my age are being given helmets and weapons they don't even know how to wield.

What kind of bullshit is this?

And what's worse they all stared at Aragorn, Boromir and I (if you'll dare to believe it), like we were some god-sent heroes or something.

Did I mention I hate Saruman?

I really do.

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted before storming off.

Oh dear.

This is what I get for tuning out all the time!

**OoO**

Jeez, not again!

Is everybody else in this whole darn dimension gifted with lightning fast speed or other abilities to that effect?

I turn around for one second, one _measly_ second, and when I turn back everyone's gone!

Well no, not _everyone_ hearsay, more like every one of my companions.

Damn them.

Why do they have to move so fast?

Now I have to find the stupid buggers.

And this armor Boromir made me wear is freaking heavy.

I'll kill them all when I find them.

To –er—don't really know where they are so—away!

**OoO**

Holy fucking a!

They're here!

They're really here!

"HAL!" I screamed bounding onto the back of the march warden like the child I am.

"Greeting little one." He said smiling. "Will you willingly get off my back, or shall I have to employ drastic measures?"

Darn it.

You know that little teensy-weensy fact that he taught me how to fight? Well, that's just it. He's way better than me, eons better, and so I can't win against him.

Bloody hell.

"Spoil sport." I muttered getting off my perch on his shoulders.

He ruffled my hair affectionately before hugging me. "I have missed you little one."

"Me too you big lummack." I said grinning.

And then the battle horn sounded in the deep.

The battle for helm's deep was about to start.

And whoo boy, did that sound ominous or what?

**a/n: I'm done with the exam! Cheer for me minions muahahhaa! Ok, uhmm…moving on. So, I know that was a tad short and the reason is because I'm avoiding the fight scene but I'll get round to it perhaps around next week , provided I get positive feedback. –glares at reader and uses freak mind powers to force reader into reviewing- haha, forgive me I'm sick at the moment and have an overdose of psychoticness.**

**Review responses:**

Laer4572: you have made me one very happy, not to mention hyper, authoress! I looove cookies! –munches- thanks!

**Silver sliver: I live to deliver, hope you like this chappie!**

Just Me: thanks a bunch! Btw, do me a favor? Leave a return e-mail in your next review!

**ArwenEvenstar83: yeah, I agree with you. It is kinda weird how they get all upset when he takes that tumble even though they know he's eventually gonna die anyways. But I guess it has to do with the plucked before the fruit is ripe adage. Or at least something to that effect. By the way, any scenes or special requests you want me to include in the next chappie? Send it in your review and I'll put them in.**

ColdPlayGirl: ph yeesh, me is definitely evil. Hence the name Satania which I have been dubbed numerous times. I dunno about that theory though…coz a part of me clicked on that romance genre for kicks. Heh. Seriously, I dunno if there'll be any hook-ups. I hear unrequited love is all the rage at the moment no?

**BlackRosePoison-Orchid: yeah, I really despise Barney. And I'm glad you like my story!**

Aya013: blast you woman! What have you done! Where have you hidden my muffins? Lolz, sorry had a moment there. Hope you likey this chap. And update your story for heavens sake!


	19. sarcasm is inevitable babe

**a/n: -sniff, sniff- I only got five reviews for the previous chappie. I must suck as a writer. Here you go people. Hope you like.**

**Chapter 18: sarcasm is inevitable babe…**

**-Sam-**

"Are you well little sister?" Boromir asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Sure," I answer grinning sarcastically. "I'm just about to go head-to-head with ghastly beasts that are more than half my size, thus resulting in my imminent death. Everything is peachy keen!"

"I see you are still as cheerful as ever." Gimli commented dryly.

I grinned. I love this dwarf.

I stood up and jumped around in my place.

I closed my eyes and continued through my retinue of jumps, claps and flexes.

What?

It's what I do when I'm nervous!

Quit staring, it's not _that_ weird!

I feel eyes burning holes through me and I turn around to see not one but four males staring at me like I've sprouted another head.

I held up my hands. "What?"

"What in the name of good sense are you doing?" Boromir asked.

I shrugged. "Trying to get rid of my nerves."

They all blinked and turned around, deciding to ignore my radical behavior.

Farts.

"Your friends are with you Aragorn." Legolas told the ranger reassuringly.

A clap of lightning and a rumble of thunder.

"Let's hope they last the night." Gimli said flatly.

"Encouraging." Boromir and I mutter simultaneously.

We burst out laughing at the stupidity of it all.

When we finally calm down, the rain had already started pouring and we were all drenched.

Peachy.

It figures doesn't it? We're fighting to the death and it rains, can you _say_ cliché?

I grumble loudly about slipping hazards and take my position on the wall.

Wooh boy, I tell you, that was some sight!

It's both beautiful and terrible to behold and oh eew—they're walking!

I'm sorry it's just they look like bastardizations of chimeras. Upright chimeras.

Ugh.

Grossed myself out.

Thank you overly-active imagination!

"A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!" Aragorn shouted walking around like the big man he is.

Ah, I see.

"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none…" I murmured under my breath as I leaned on Keiko.

I felt Legolas' eyes swing onto me and I realized I wasn't supposed to understand elvish, let alone translate it word for word.

Oh, I am _screwed_.

Stupid mouth!

"What's happening out there?" Gimli asked hopping on the balls of his feet to see above the wall.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas asked grinning. "Or would you like me to find you a box?"

I ducked my head and smiled, making sure my hair hid my face.

I heard Gimli's hearty laughter as well as Boromir's.

Suddenly, I hear Aragorn's cries of "Dartho!" and I realize that the first arrow had been let loose.

Oh dear…

The archers start firing and I hear Legolas muttering something in elvish.

I think it's about the armor's weak spots.

I want elvish eyes.

No really.

I know I'm going to have to hit myself with a bucket later on but I just had the weirdest thought.

You wanna know what it is?

Oddly enough, Legolas looks incredibly _cute_ when he's drenched with water.

I'm broken!

Ugh, I should probably pay more attention to the battle at hand.

Righto.

"Anybody hit anything?" Gimli asked the two of us.

"Yep." I answer. "Perfect elves and their perfect aim."

He laughs in agreement and mutters something about poncy elvish princelings.

A while passed and the arrows continued flying and Orc-corpses littered the ground.

"Come on!" Gimli roared. "Send them to me!"

I rolled my eyes at the battle-hungry gleam I saw in Boromir's eyes as he and Gimli cheered at Aragorn's announcement of uruks on ladders.

"MEN!"

The creaking ladders full of stinking uruks slammed against the wall.

The creatures bounded off the ladders and snarled, scimitars shining in the light of the fires.

Bracing myself I brought Keiko up and sliced cleanly through the first Uruk-hai in front of me.

So it begins lovies, so it begins.

**OoO**

I am woman, hear me ROAR!

I am currently on my 8th uruk!

Aren't you so proud of me?

Not bad considering 'tis my first battle no?

Although I really fail to see how they could be deriving pleasure from this, I have to admit I feel proud because for once I'm actually helping.

Not just being lugged around like some dead-weight.

Boromir and I held our own on the wall with the occasional appearance of Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn.

The elf and the ranger are just flipping everywhere I tell you.

And bloody hell is my partner good.

So there we were, determinedly hacking apart uruks whilst I resolutely tried to keep my rhythm.

Then from somewhere through the film of snarls and blood and the clashing of metal against metal, I hear a distinct sound.

A panicked, "Togo hon dad, Legolas! Dago hon!"

Oh shit.

I turn to my brother and the dwarf who had joined us.

"_MOVE!" _I shouted.

"Sam?" Boromir asked, bewildered. "What are you--?'

I didn't wait; I pulled both of them from the wall just as it blew.

**OoO**

Owie.

"I fucking hate orcs, Saruman and everything in between." I muttered through clenched teeth.

Lemme just say that being sent hurtling through the air, landing on stone and being showered by rocks?

Uh huh, not a pleasant experience.

"I believe they reciprocate the feeling dear sister." Boromir answered contemptuously.

Oh bollocks!

Muffins, noodles, cornbread and pie!

I have to go find Haldir!

There is no bloody way I'm letting him die a death that's not supposed to be his in the first place!

Yeah, I know, hypocritical but who cares?

In case you haven't noticed, the doofus I rescued from Amon Hen, otherwise known as my adoptive brother, is living proof that my non-interference has flown out the proverbial window.

Rambling?

Darn it.

I need to find that stupid march warden.

I leave Boromir's side, much to his dismay, and hack a path for myself as I try to find Haldir.

If any of these boys die I'll kill 'em all.

I pause for a moment to watch Aragorn charge.

Call me weird but I find that part so cool.

Bad move as a particularly vile uruk decides to take advantage of a lady and scalped me.

Ow…

I chopped his arm off in retaliation.

But these things just won't _die_ dammit.

So now I have a gash on my arm courtesy of said uruk.

Bastard.

I chopped off his head and resumed my search.

Come on, come on…

"Am Marad!" Aragorn bellowed to his men.

Shit…shit…

I follow the shouts just in time to hear the rangerly king dude calling, "Nan Barad Haldir! Nan Barad!"

That's my cue ladies and muffins.

I see Hal calling for his men…er—elves? Soldiers. Yeah, he's calling for his soldiers.

"HAL!" I screech, much like a banshee but screw that. "Behind you!"

He turns and beheads the orc.

He nods and I make my way over to him and get another gash on the shoulder.

OW!

Why is it _always_ the shoulder dammit?

What is wrong with you assholes?

"We must pull back to the keep." He told me.

I nod, I feel fuzzy-headed.

"You are wounded."

And with that, I am pulled back into Helm's deep without as much as a peep.

**-Haldir-**

Who would have ever thought that the clumsy, complaining young woman I had once taught to fight would eventually be the one to save me in battle?

I am quite certain that had she not been there, I would be leaving the confines of this earth.

And so, I owe her my life.

"Sam!" came her adoptive brother's worried outcry as we entered the confines of the keep.

I let go of her arm and watched silently as she sank to the floor in a corner, her face drawn.

Ensuring that the child had her brother's attention, I turned to the task of barricading the gates.

000

But of course, it is inevitable that we should run out of furniture.

In the words of young Samantha, everything that can go wrong will.

Orcs were breaking upon the stone fortress like trickling water.

We could not hold much longer.

I look around at the men's stricken faces.

Is this to be the end?

I caught sight of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, looking at Samantha.

A strange expression was on his face, one of—regret perhaps? Or was it something else?

She catches his gaze and sends him a loopy grin.

He shakes his head.

"The fortress is taken. It is over." Théoden, King of Rohan, utters, despair evident in his voice.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Such cowardice, for a king? He should not be the one to lose heart; he should be the one restoring courage and hope to his men.

Aragorn turned to the musing King in disbelief. "You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. They still defend it. They have died defending it!"

Théoden did not answer, merely looked on lost in a reverie.

I could tell Aragorn was growing frantic. He turned to one of the king's assistants and asked if the women and children had any means, any at all, of escape.

Aragorn gave his orders.

Théoden turned as if in a trance, "So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?"

I hear a scuffling noise and turn to see Sam, struggling forward an indignant look on her face.

Her brother held her back.

"Let _go_ of me Boromir," she muttered just loud enough for her brother to hear, but the keen ears of elves are capable of hearing whispers.

"Hush little sister," her brother answered in the same undertone. "Just sit down and keep quiet, you are losing enough blood as it is."

I was not surprised when this did not deter her.

"Screw blood Boromir," she hissed angrily. "Let me go and I'll smack him. I swear I will; the man's got _no_ sense."

I caught Legolas' eye and gave an amused smile.

"Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn!" came Théoden's clear voice.

I prepare to ride out with the men admiring the skill of Isildur's heir at inspiring courageous deeds in others and himself.

He will make a good king, this I know.

**-Sam-**

_You do know you're losing an awful amount of blood don't you?_

Thank you captain obvious, I know that very well.

The ickle baddies are raging outside so now the big bad macho men of my side are going to ride out and kill them with their pointy toys.

Forgive me if that doesn't sound tempting to me.

I'll just sit here and hang my head while boys be boys.

Men.

Wake me up when September ends ok lovies?

**OoO**

Hmm…

Who knew dead uruk-hai would make such comfy chairs?

Not me, that's for sure.

So here I am, reclining on a big black uruk corpse whilst I try to recover from the multiple gashes I have on my body.

Stupid pointy things.

I have a gash on my shoulder _again_, one on my arm and another on my tummy.

And wooh boy does it hurt.

A shadow covers the sunlight and I am forced to open my eyes.

Gimli is standing over me, in a very all-powerful way which, come to think of it is scary. He is, after all, a dwarf.

"We should get the elf to take care of that." He stated looking at my wounds.

I glared at him.

"If by elf you mean Haldir, by all means, go call him." I said, not liking that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

He smirked

Oh dear…

"To be honest, I don't think the lad would like that." And with that, he turned around and sat roughly on an axe-embedded orc before yelling, "LEGOLAS!" soundly.

I gave him the death glare of doom.

Frickshaws and cow dung.

The elf was seen a minute later looking harassed.

Poor baby, did the women get you?

"What is it Gimli?" he asked turning to the dwarf.

"I need you to take a look at the lass's wounds." He said pointing to me.

"Aye," he agreed. "I would have treated it earlier but I was barraged by others demanding that I heal them."

I raised my hand.

"Is it possible for me to get a healer who is perchance Eowyn, or Aragorn or Haldir or someone else who _isn't_ named Legolas?"

He crouched down next to me and brought out some stuff.

Can't really tell you, everything's too hazy.

"Forgive me my lady, but I am afraid that unless you wish to leave the confines of this earth, I am your only choice as the others are occupied." He said coldly, not looking at me.

Oh darn, now I made him mad.

Good going Sam.

"Hey," I whispered touching his cheek gently as he treated my right arm. "I didn't mean it. I was just suffering from blood-loss."

He turned to look at me; there was something unreadable in his gaze, he gave a curt nod and returns to my wounds.

I bite my lip.

"Legolas," I begin again. "I really _am_ sorry."

"Think nothing of it Mendwe." He answers.

"Mendwe?" I repeat, confused. "What the hell is a Mendwe?"

He smiles mysteriously. "I will tell you one day."

He finishes tying the bandages on my stomach and gives me a look.

"What?"

"I believe I agree with your brother now." He said softly. "You should not be allowed in a war. Look at the damage it has done."

I frowned at him.

Man, elves are weird.

"No worries cupcake. I'm wonder woman, hence, I am indestructible!"

I flexed my non-existent muscles and burst out laughing at my own stupidity.

I saw both him and Gimli stare at me, not getting what was so amusing making me crack up all the more.

I saw Legolas' lips twitch upwards in a small smile at my antics as he walked off though.

What the bloody hell is up with that man, elf, sorry, elf.

Tasha would have gotten the joke.

In fact, she would probably make a similar one.

A pang of homesickness hits me as I quieted down.

Boromir walks over to us and plops down next to me.

Why am I the only one with a serious injury?

Seriously, why?

Does the universe just hate me _that_ much?

Stupid males.

Am now very pissed.

"King Théoden is quite insistent that all that are able, ride come morning. Can we be ready?"

Peachy.

"When pigs fly to the moon." I answer, picking myself up and walking out of the sunshine.

I need rest, and boy do I need it bad.

Stupid blood loss.

I walk around helm's deep, my eyes roving around for a while until I find my bag.

You know what's annoying?

Working hard to clean your favorite pair of jeans only to have them dirtied beyond recognition again.

My jeans are bloody again, and grimy and dirty.

Ugh.

I wanna take a bath.

I heave my bag gingerly onto my shoulder, being careful not to hurt my shoulder wound.

I step into an empty room off the hall and lock the door.

Great, my tunic is ripped.

Stupid orc.

I change shirts with much stress due to my stinking wounds and march back outside, bag with me, just in time to hear my brother ask Haldir if he's returning to Lothlorien with his men.

"I will stay with Lord Aragorn and his companions for as long as he is of a mind to allow it." He said haughtily and then adds. "And then some more just to annoy him."

I laugh, thus drawing the men's attention.

I notice for the first time that Eomer is with them.

I stared, he stared, we both stared, insert uncomfy silence here.

"Can you be ready to ride little sister?"

"Yes momma," I answer giving him a loopy grin. "I can."

He raised an eyebrow.

My grin grew wider and I planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Now, now Boromir, you better not be doubting me. You know full well I wouldn't lie to you." I said sweetly.

A cough came from our group and I turned to find none other than Aragorn grinning mischievously at me.

"Prat." I told him laughingly. "How will you ever become a good king if you don't know how to trust your own subjects?"

"Perhaps because he knows that you _would_ lie to your brother in a heartbeat if the situation demanded it." This from Haldir.

"Incorrigible!" I said grinning. "You're all incorrigible! And—you know me too well."

The battle for helm's deep is over ladies and gents, close the curtains.

I sat back on a corpse again and enjoyed in the few cheerful moments we are given as a reprieve from all the horrors.

Things are gonna suck later on.

**a/n: I _do_ hope more people review this time. I have the next few chapters ready for posting but I think I'll add a few more odds and ends to them. Click the nifty purple button won't you?**

Ai-ki-doo: angst is good no? I agree with you. Wholeheartedly.

**Aya013: it's a mesh-verse love. I'm mixing the book and the movie. Or at least I'm trying to. Do you think she should meet Elladan and Elrohir? You're writer's block is over? Awesomeness! sees picture of muffins gah! –cries- gimme back my muffins! Lolz, I'm off to give leggy a hug!**

Aisling Jace: must say, I am _very_ flattered. Hope I live up to your expectations! I updated within a week, aren't you proud?

**ColdPlayGirl: of course I agree that Haldir shouldn't die. I love that march warden. Dunno bout the love thing though. Btw, did you catch that hint I put up there? After Sam was attacked? Might give you a clue of a little something, something.**

Just Me: here you go! Yeah, as you can see she did get hurt. But oh well, she's a string girl. Btw, do you have any requests? Anything you want me to put into the next chappie? Like, oh I dunno, a scene between Legolas and Sam? Tell me in your review. Btw, should she meet the twins of Elrond?

**Well, that's all. Click the nifty purple button, won't you?**


	20. copywight elmer fudd,all wights weswved

**a/n: whoo, y'all have made me one happy little muffinhead! Thanks so much to all who reviewed last chappie. I appreciate it. So here you go. I hope you enjoy this one!**

**Chapter 19: copywight elmer fudd, all wights wesewved..**

**-Sam-**

And—we're riding again.

Surprise, surprise.

Eowyn's riding with us for a part, and then she's off to Edoras again.

She's pouting because she feels 'we treat her unjustly'.

Seriously, put a cork in it sister.

I mean, I like you and all but _please_.

You don't even _know_ the Kingly-ranger-dude that well.

You're only blinded by his shiny deeds and sword.

Am I being harsh?

Oh well, at least I haven't said it aloud.

The men are having a conference somewhere up front so I'm stuck here, being the tiny insignificant speck that I am.

Great, now I'm cranky _and_ depressed.

"Sam," Eowyn begins. "May I ask you something?"

I turn to her and smile. "Yeah, sure."

"The woman, he is betrothed to," she pauses. "Have you met her?"

"No." I answer smoothly. "Heard a lot about her though."

Let me just say that I love the Aragorn/Arwen ship to death, and I'll be damned if I let anything screw it up.

"Is it true that she is sailing away?"

I notice Legolas and Gimli riding towards us from up front.

He looks amused.

"Well," Eowyn asks expectantly. "Is she?"

"Nope." I answer confidently. "Not gonna happen."

"You sound confident." Legolas comments. "How are you so sure?"

I roll my eyes. "You'll figure it out."

And ride out to annoy Eomer.

**OoO**

Ugh.

So, is this punishment for annoying the heck out of Eomer?

Not only do I have to ride with a bunch of smelly, chauvinistic men, I also have to ride through a living forest that could very well grind my bones to make their bread?

Stupid farts.

_Men._

They just _have_ to go through the dangerous routes don't they?

A tree groans nearby.

Fishpaste and cucumber!

A hand closes on my shoulder and I snarl at him, whoever he is.

"You have been in a decidedly prickly mood since we left Helm's Deep." The voice said.

I keep my mouth shut and turn away.

In case you're wondering, the person I'm talking to is Legolas.

I know big surprise eh?

"Sam?" he repeated, concerned.

"Leaver her alone lad." Came Gimli's voice from behind him.

Oh but you _know_ he's not going to leave me alone now Gimli!

Darn it.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

I turned to him, rolling my unwounded shoulder.

"I'm peachy keen." I told him with a smile. "Just, uneasy."

And who wouldn't be, I ask you?

Holy shampoo!

Light!

We're nearly out of this forest of cannibalism galore!

Joy!

A light noise reaches my ears and I perk up in my seat on Charcoal.

I hear it again.

Laughter.

Light-hearted, distinctly hobbity laughter!

A grin breaks across my face.

"Merry and Pippin!" I cry, overjoyed.

Boromir rides up beside me, grinning madly.

In the near distance, we saw the two small forms of our hobbit friends basking on a rock surrounded by food.

As we neared I caught a few snippets of their conversation.

"A mug of ale in my hand, putting my feet up on a settee after a hard day's work." Came Pippin's voice.

"Only," Merry pointed out. "You've never _done_ a hard day's work."

More laughing followed, even some from our companions.

I giggled.

The two hobbits spot us and Pippin waves a tankard high, laughing.

Holy hell, I think he's drunk.

"Welcome, my lords…" Merry said importantly, standing up. "To Isengard."

From somewhere, I hear Gimli growl.

"You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!" cried Gimli in outrage.

"We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is _particularly_ good." Defended Pippin sounding only _slightly_ touched in the head.

"Salted pork?" Gimli repeats eagerly. I can see the smile on his face.

Man, I love that dwarf.

"Hobbits." Gandalf muttered impatiently.

Aww, you know you love 'em.

I know I do.

How could you not?

Hobbit huggability is exhibited quite strongly in Pippin.

"We're under orders from Treebeard who's taken over management of Isengard." Merry explains happily.

Dear me the smoke has gotten to their heads I tell you.

They climbed down from their rock at Gandalf's orders.

"Hullo." They said looking up at me and smiling genially.

God, if it weren't so typically feminine I'd be hugging them to death.

"Have you forgotten us?" Pippin asked crossing his arms.

I grinned cheekily.

"How could I forget!" I answered climbing off Charcoal.

I feigned a thoughtful expression. "Perry and Mippin, correct?"

This was met with raucous laughter from all the men.

I do believe I amused them with that one.

Got my sordid sense of humor intact, I'm only a little bit broken physically speaking, and I amused the chauvinistic males.

Take that!

**OoO**

HO-LY shite!

It's a—it's a talking tree!

I shiver involuntarily and slowly maneuver Charcoal further away from the big nasty.

Creepy.

I'm sorry.

I _liked_ Treebeard well enough in the films; I just find it freaky to see him in the flesh—er bark.

Oh look, its big bad needle sticking out of the ground.

Stupid gay-assed bastard.

What are you _really_ doing in there with Grima, eh Saruman?

Ugh!

Visions!

Mind leaving the path of righteousness!

It _burns!_

**OoO**

Ah, it seems I lost more blood than I anticipated.

Or it could be that I suffered intense psychological trauma from those self-inflicted visions.

Shiver.

Never again.

And now ladies and gentlemen, may I present the disturbing sight of Gandalf bopping, hobbit dancing and men drinking.

Théoden raises his tankard. "All hail the victorious dead!"

We raise our tankards.

"HAIL!" the men holler back.

I put down the alcohol they gave me and go off to find Eowyn.

I want to go to sleep.

--

Darn it, where is Eowyn?

Tired of walking, I sit down beside Legolas and Gimli.

"What's going on here?" I ask, noticing the group.

Eomer comes forward, looking amused. "No pauses, no spills." He said firmly.

"And no regurgitation." Puts in Gimli.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas asks.

Oh god.

I stand up and shake my head muttering, "_Men._" Exasperatedly under my breath.

After a few more minutes of searching, I finally find Eowyn and find a room to sleep in.

Bloody hell.

At least she wasn't hitting on Aragorn when I found her.

Ugh, thank goodness for small favors.

**OoO**

And, yeah, you know how you expect to be able to sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow?

Doesn't it totally suck when you're so tired it's not even funny and you _still _can't sleep?

The sleep sisters are waging a blatant attack on me for being so utterly pathetic.

Bitches.

Bloody Mary queen of Scots, why did I have to go falling in love with an unreachable?

Stupid gay-assed emotions.

I could've fallen for Aragorn, thus giving myself sufficient reason to jump off a tower instead of ruining my favorite couple, but _no_ it has to be pure torture doesn't it?

Why do the Powers That Be hate me so much?

_What_ dare I ask have I ever done to them?

Sigh.

I feel so depressed right now.

I'm gonna go take a walk.

Hopefully all those drinking men will have become so knackered they all just keeled over on the spot.

But knowing my fantastic luck and how much the fates love me, I'd wager I'll be pining for my room before two hours are up.

Why two hours you ask?

Simple.

It'll probably take me an hour to actually_ get_ to the golden hall thingy.

Wish me luck!

**OoO**

Coming here was a bad idea.

Sob.

I just found out how much of a pariah I truly am.

In the past half-hour I've been here, I've been sat on, pushed, and spilt beer on.

Ugh.

At least I don't smell like beer anymore thanks to Eowyn.

And now, I have removed myself from the festivities, preferring instead to stay hidden in a corner.

These people scare me.

And there aren't any maids I can shanghai into taking me back to my room.

Yeah, as we all know my sense of direction sucks and I'd probably end up in Mordor than my room.

Dunno bout you guys, but I ain't risking it.

Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man?

Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man?

Do you know the muffin man that lives on drury lane?

"What is it you sing?" came a voice from beside me.

I look up and see a man a few years or so older than me, holding a mug.

Darn, he seems drunk.

"I was singing?" I ask blankly.

He nods.

Eew, that is just so Mary-sue.

Somebody cut off my tongue.

Treacherous thing it is after all.

"My lady?"

Oh, darn it I spaced out again.

I give him a smile. "It's a song we sang as children in my hometown. Just some nonsense invented for fun."

He nods in understanding. "Might I have the honor of your name my Lady?"

"Depends, may I have yours?"

"I am Deor, my Lady." He said inclining his head.

"Sam."

"Charmed." He answered scooting closer.

Oh dear.

I move away, ever so subtly.

He leans over me.

Ugh, he reeks of booze.

"What say you teach me a few more of those songs in a more," he said slowly his hand riding up my knee. "_romantic_ setting?"

I stared at him.

Ho-lee sheet.

I move further away and successfully get his hand off of my knee and land on my ass on the floor.

Oh crap, I _knew_ I shouldn't have forgotten Keiko and my daggers in my room!

I'm in trouble now.

Shit, shit, shit!

The doofus pulls me up by the arm, his grip as tight as a vice.

Crap, what do I do?

I hate not having any hand-to-hand combat skills.

I am way too reliant on my weapons.

"Trying to escape eh?" he said menacingly. He leers at me and then suddenly latches his lips onto mine!

GOOD GOD!

Bloody hell, bloody hell!

Instinctively I ram my knee hard into whatever body part of his it can find. His death-grip loosens and I pull away.

"I like 'em feisty!" he said laughing boisterously.

I run.

"Get away from me you bastard!" I scream pushing him away.

Where the hell are those boys when you need them?

I run out of the hall, perve-ass hot on my heels.

"Come on lass, just come with me like a good one eh?" he said his words getting sloppy.

He _was_ drunk.

Why didn't I leave when I had the chance?

Jesus, why does this always happen to me?

I turn blindly and end up facing a wall.

Shit, a dead end.

Oh god.

I feel hot tears burning behind my eyelids and I clench my hands into fists.

"Nowhere else to run…" Deor said tauntingly. "You are mine."

Yeah?

I may not be good at hand-to-hand but I sure as hell ain't going down without a fight.

**OoO**

I shall forever be in Legolas' debt.

Yeah that's right.

Just as I was about to be mangled by that horrid, horrid man he came out of one of the rooms and saw us.

Oh gods you should've seen him.

His face contorted into this utterly furious expression and he punched the living daylights out of Deor.

Man, I hate to think what'll happen if he hit on a girl Legolas _really_ cared about.

I mean, if I hadn't stopped him why I do believe the elf would have pummeled him to death.

"Are you alright?" he asked me once he was done bashing my attacker's face in.

"Yeah." I answered shakily. Which I am, aside from the fact that my arm hurts from where the prat grabbed it and my head's spinning.

Oh and did I mention that said arm is bruised?

Grumble, grumble.

I give Deor a kick just for good measure and allow Legolas to escort me to the communal sleeping rooms we were to sleep in.

He would've stayed in my good books though if he hadn't told Boromir.

Come on lovies, this is Boromir we're talking about.

Mr. Overprotective Brother in all his glory.

He completely flipped out and dragged all the boys out of the room to god-knows-where and they haven't returned since.

Dear, dear…

Why does this always happen to _me_?

Oh, the boys are back.

"Are you alright Sam?" Boromir asked sitting down next to me.

I nod. "Yeah, just—overtaxed. I really didn't want a repeat of spring fling but ho deedle dum there it was again."

I can't say he actually understood what I said but at least he cared.

"Sam," said Pippin sitting down on the spot Boromir had just vacated. "You _are_ alright?"

I nod and smile. "I'm fine Pip. Just a little damaged but then again I already was right?"

He didn't smile.

Oh dear, now you _know_ it's bad if Pippin doesn't smile.

"Pip?"

"We took care of him for you." He whispered confidentially into my ear before hopping off the bed.

I smiled and felt tears sliding from my eyes.

"Sam?" came Legolas' voice. "Nay, do not weep. He shall not bother you again."

Damn that gentleness in his voice.

I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him tight.

"Thank you." I whisper into his ear. "Thank you."

**OoO**

And after _that_ singular moment of femininity, which I am never going to repeat, imagine my chagrin when I am woken moments later by a screaming and twitching Pippin holding the Palantir in his hands.

"Pippin!" I screamed jumping off the bed.

I hear Merry's similar screams.

"Wake up!" I screamed. "Wake up you bunions! Get your asses over here!"

Am I hysterical?

Yes, why yes I am.

I can't help it; this is Pippin we're talking about. I'd kill to protect the rowdier half of the hobbit brigade.

Aragorn and Legolas burst through the door.

Aragorn wrenches the Palantir from Pippin's hands and crumples to the floor.

"Boromir, Legolas make him let go of that thing!" I cry.

It takes their combined effort and the Palantir falls to the floor I grab a blanket from a nearby bed and throw it over the seemingly living ball.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf thunders.

He pushes Merry aside like a ball of crumpled paper.

I knelt down next to him and out an arm around his shoulder, glaring daggers over at Whitey.

"Look at me."

Pippin gives a jolt and looks into the wizard's eyes. "Gandalf! Forgive me!"

He looks away only to be brought back. "Look at me. What did you see?"

I saw fear in the youngest hobbit's eyes. "A tree…there was a white tree in courtyard of stone…it was dead. The city was burning."

"Minas Tirith." I hear Boromir whisper.

"Minas Tirith?" Gandalf repeats. "Is that what you saw?"

Pippin was visibly shaking now. "I saw…I saw _him_! I could hear his voice in my head!"

I shivered in spite of myself.

I could still recall quite clearly what the sound of his voice sounded like and how terrible it was to behold his eye in your mind.

"And what did you tell him? Speak!" Gandalf said harshly.

Jeez man, will you let him alone?

"He asked me my name. I didn't answer. He hurt me!" he said quailing at the memory.

Oh I know how _that_ feels too. He has more ways of hurting you than punches and such.

How do I know?

Heh comes from firsthand experience.

Yesh, remember that little bit in the mines?

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the ring?"

And—he's popped the million dollar question!

Ai!

**OoO**

A few hours later, once we were sure Pippin was alright, I hear Aragorn mutter quietly, "I thought perhaps…I could control it."

I rolled my eyes and let out a huff. "Next time Aragorn when you wanna try something that could endanger us, don't. You didn't help; you made everything worse by letting that gay-assed Mordorian bastard get a good look at you."

Everyone stares at me. "What?" I snap. "It's true."

"What do you mean by that?" Aragorn hisses, all defensive.

"I _mean_ your Reluctant Highness, that by grabbing that stupid glowing ball—"I explain in a very sarcastic manner but I am interrupted.

"Palantir." Haldir corrects haughtily.

"_Whatever_ Hal." I said, glaring at him. "The _point_ is, by grabbing that pathetic excuse for a bowling ball, he let Sauron get a good long look at him. The only thing that overgrown blockhead fears is the kingdoms of men uniting against him; and because Aragorn here is the rightful king of Gondor, he's the only honcho who can do that _thus_ my hypothesis that Sauron is afraid of him. Do you _get_ my point honey?"

"Fair point lass." Gimli said, grinning at me.

I love you too Gimli.

And thus follows a demonstration of pettiness as exhibited by Théoden, King.

Gods, do you really _have_ to owe something to Gondor for you to help them out?

Couldn't you just do it because you're humanitarian or it's out of the goodness of your heart or something?

"Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone." Gandalf said in a tone that was half-grim half-menacing, lord knows only _he_ can pull that off. "I ride for Minas Tirith. And I won't be going alone."

Ooh wow, an excursion. Yay!

**OoO**

A few hours later and all the arrangements and plans are laid out.

I'll say one thing about these people; they're as efficient as daddy's secretary.

I followed Gandalf and the hobbits to the stable.

I wait patiently as Merry says his farewell before approaching the you hobbit.

"Hullo Pip."

"Hullo Sam." He answers nonchalantly hanging his head.

I bend down and look into his eyes. "Hey," I said smiling and punching him lightly on the chin. "Buck up."

I hand him a small package of muffins.

"It's still warm!" he says in surprise.

I grin at him. "I made you some in the kitchen, you know, something to nibble on."

He laughs and hugs me.

"Be safe." I whisper.

"I won't have to say the same for you, I know Legolas will keep you safe." He said grinning cheekily at me.

I frown, "What?"

"Come Peregrin Took." Gandalf called.

It was still in the same confused state that I approached the old wizard.

"Gandalf," I said sweetly. "Take care of him because if you don't, I'll have your head on a platter."

I turn around and walk off.

Life is good.

Now I'm off to get some sleep.

**a/n: there you go you lovely people! Click the nifty button before you go!**

**Review responses:**

**Ai-ki-doo: yesh, angst very good.**

Aya013: -gapes- stop your story? Are you NUTS? Continue it you silly little cupcake! Hmm… what do I want to happen? I dunno some more drama I guess. Like a new villain or something to that effect. Watch out for the next chappie! She'll meet the twins then.

**Aisling Jace: here you go hon. So you wanna know what'll happen with Sam and Legolas? All in good time.**

BlacRosePoison-Orchid: thank you! I love you people! Don't forget to click the button again!

**Kanefire: yah, I was pretty pissed too when they killed him off. And the twins are awesome, I can see why they're your favorite.**

Socks Are Yummy: interesting name. heh… anyway, you'll see more of ms. Evil in the future chappies, just not right now. And as for Tasha, I didn't get rid of her. You'll see a lot more of her in the sequel. Glad you like my story!

**JustMe: hey love! Sorry if your request came kinda short in the fluff department. I'll put some more in the next chappie. it just didn't seem to fit in this one but I will definitely be squeezing in more fluff, just for the hell of it and also to boggle your brains coz I never really said they would end up, eh?**

Silver sliver: you spelled contagious right, go you! –applauds thee- so, yeah Sam is like a disease heh. She's amusing, glad you like this story. To tell the truth I was kinda gonna put it off coz I wasn't getting enough feedback but now everything's great. By the way, any requests? Any scenes you want me to put in the next chappie? tell me in your review!

**KSarinaW: thank you! Hope you enjoyed this!**

ColdPlayGirl: heh, a lot of you are glad Hal didn't die. I'm glad too really. I love that guy. Also, I doubt anyone will be able to find what the word Mendwe means cause I found it on some site two years ago and now it's gone. I ain't gonna tell you what it is just yet though, Sam would get pissy.

Fear of the Furbies: there you go! Hope that was quick enough!

**Once again, please don't forget to click the nifty purple button!**


	21. dunharrow,dimholt and PMS don't mix

**a/n: hey people! I'm back with the latest installment of stuck in ME! Thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed!**

**Chapter 20: Dunharrow, Dimholt, and PMS should not mix….**

**-Sam-**

Ah, lunch with the boys.

Always an enjoyable occasion, especially if you're eating with Gimli.

Have I mentioned how much I love that dwarf?

I really do, he's guaranteed to have you incapacitated with laughter ten minutes into the meal. He has amazing stories.

However, it's not guaranteed to work on Elves. You know them; they're too stoical for their own good.

Ok, fine so Hal's always been that way, being the psycho that he is, and Legolas _does_ have a bit of a sense of humor so sue me.

Aragorn? Well, the kingly-ranger-dude doesn't always join us for lunch.

I'm cool with that though.

"I should have gone with Mithrandir to Minas Tirith." Boromir mumbled darkly as he sat down.

He threw me a glare.

"What?"

"I have no idea _how_ you managed to convince me to stay here." He said shaking his head. "you are perfectly fine, that imbecile who attacked you is highly unlikely to come after you again after what we did to him yet you pleaded with me to stay with you instead of going to Gondor where I am needed."

This is followed by a childish pout.

I laugh and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Does the baby miss his toys?"

He stares, not getting it.

I roll my eyes. "You have to let it play out Boromir." I tell him as I pick at my bacon. "You're needed in Gondor, but not in the way you might think."

"What do you mean by that?" he asks confused.

I would just like to point out now that my brother is a loud mouth and has just captured the attention of two elves, a dwarf and a hobbit thus making me want to smack him one.

"Your place is here, with your King, no matter how reluctant he is. You have a bigger part to play here with us than in Gondor which in the end," I added quickly, seeing his look. "Will benefit it more. Believe me."

Suddenly the doors open and Aragorn rushes in looking out of breath.

"The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he proclaimed. "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid."

Ok Théoden bas—er I mean King, time to show the world you're not a chauvinistic, useless sack of—

I'll just stop while I'm ahead eh?

"And Rohan will answer." He says firmly.

Hooray!

There _is_ a brain somewhere in there!

It's _not_ full of air and ideals about honor as is the popular belief.

He turns to Eomer, "Muster the Rohirrim. Gather the army at Dunharrow. You have two days, on the third we ride for Gondor, and _war_."

_Great_, I have to say goodbye to my warm fluffy pillows.

Joy!

**OoO**

Ah the journey to Dunharrow.

Boring, uneventful and pretty much everything in between.

I had to give Merry a hand with his pony or he was going to be left behind.

Stupid thing wouldn't move so I had to give it an apple and pull it along for an hour or two before it got the idea and galloped off.

I miss my pillow already.

**OoO**

Camping, how I would love thee to bits if only I knew how to camp!

No, I don't know how to camp.

I've been to the great outdoors of course, but those were just the excursions my family used to take when I was a kid to watch the stars; and it was always one of the boys who set up the tents while we were traveling.

Not really any camping involved there, just a little picnic.

Eowyn and Merry step out of a tent.

"To the smithy with you! Go." She says, laughing at a warrior-clad Merry who's taking practice swipes at the air.

I grin from my place in a corner with Haldir and Legolas under a tree.

"You should not encourage him." Eomer said from the fireside.

"And you should not doubt him." Eowyn retorts.

"I do not doubt his heart." Eomer answers. "Just the reach of his arm."

His companion, Gamling, I think his name is, snorts.

"Why should Merry be left behind?" she asks the two men. "He has as much cause to go to war as you."

I made a disparaging noise that made both elves dig their elbows into my side.

"Ouch!" I complained. "That hurt!"

Eomer stands up and turns to face his sister.

"You know as little of war as that hobbit." Eomer muttered a bit harshly. "When the fear takes him, and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee, and he would be right to do so. War is the province of men Eowyn."

"_That_ is where you're wrong buster." I said standing up.

I've just about had enough of him.

He turns to me and glares. "I beg your pardon?"

"Beg all you like." I answer crossing my arms and pulling a face.

"How am I wrong?" he asked stepping close to me and baring his teeth.

Ugh.

"Underestimating someone you don't even know? That does nothing but prove you don't know anything about war either. You underestimate the skills of hobbit-folk. True they're not as big as you; true they're not as strong as you but he would _not_ run. Merry would stand and fight!" I snap back at him. "And you know what? I am so _sick_ of all of this bullshit against women! Just because we're shaped differently does _not_ mean we can't take down an Orc!"

"Hear, Hear!" a pair of voices behind me cheers.

I turn, ready to glare darkly at whomever it was.

Men, lots of them atop horses had just ridden into the camp.

"Oi!" I shouted at the two identical doofs in front of the bunch. "Get your own bloody campsite, this is ours!"

They clambered off their horses.

Aside from being identical, the two doofs stepped into the light and I saw that they bore a resemblance to Elrond.

Heh, it's the eyebrows. But hey, I could be wrong.

I turn in time and saw Legolas pull a face and Haldir give a slight bow.

"I was hoping you would forget." Legolas told the twins.

"We are quite pleased to see you too your Highness." One of them said grinning in a flippant way.

Dribble, dribble.

Buzz, buzz.

Boring.

"We rode in with about twenty rangers from the north to fight alongside Aragorn." Said the one on the left.

"Father came with us." the other said in a conspiratorial tone. "Arwen is dying; he has brought the sword of Elendil. The blade that was broken must return to Minas Tirith."

I snapped out of my reverie and turned to look at them. "So you're saying the sword that was broken has been remade?"

They nod.

I feel my face breaking into a grin.

Huzzah!

"And who is this fiery maiden?" one of them asks Legolas.

Beats me which is which really.

"This is Samantha." This from Legolas. "Sam, these are the twin sons of Elrond: Elladan and Elrohir.

I extended my hand to shake theirs and then tapped Legolas on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

I leaned over to whisper into his ear. "How can you tell which is which?"

"Elladan is the one wearing the mischievous expression; Elrohir is the serious one." He answered.

Oh, that makes _perfect _sense.

Unfortunately, I am not a monkey, I just train them.

**OoO**

Apparently the twin doofs of Elrond aren't such doofs after all.

Hmm…

Learn something new everyday.

Turns out they are both extremely fun to hang out with.

I now know quite a lot about the future queen of Gondor.

Yay!

And, apparently they're here with the rangers of the north to fight alongside his reluctant highness.

I think it's a good thing they came. Elrond, who had ridden with them in all his elven glory, might be enough to knock some sense into him. As much as I love Aragorn, he can be a major blockhead sometimes.

I voiced this opinion and got whacked by my brother for 'speaking ill words against the king'; and got laughed at by uber-supremo elves.

Humph.

Of course, being the woman I am, I threw them all a scathing look and stalked off.

Be proud!

On a lighter note: Eomer got his just desserts!

Thanks to the impressive abilities of the twins and myself, Eomer won't be dissing any female person from now on.

Or at least, not in front of me, Eowyn and elves.

Oh, you're wondering what happened to him?

Heh.

Let's just say that it involved intricate planning on mine and Elladan's part, fine-tuning on Elrohir's part and lots of goop, rope and make-up on Eomer's part.

The smug smirk is quite firmly in place and I highly doubt it's going away anytime soon.

Price of goop: 25, make-up: 60, the look on Eomer's face: _priceless_!

Heh, I know it's too early to say it because things can and _will_ possibly go horribly wrong later on, but yeah, life is good.

**OoO**

"Sam?" came a voice from somewhere.

I look up from my bowl of soup to see Boromir.

"Hey," I greeted sleepily.

God throw a lightning bolt at me now, I'm craving for pillows and chocolate.

He plops down next to me.

Hmm, he's particularly fidgety today.

He runs his hand through his hair for the fifth time in two minutes.

"Whassamatter?" I ask.

Gah, I am incoherent at the moment.

Then again, if you ask around most of them might say I've been incoherent to begin with.

Ah well, no harm no foul.

"It is a stupid thing to worry about," he began. "But I cannot seem to find my horn. Have you seen it little sister?"

I blinked.

Er—

This is bad.

Very, very bad.

Oh dear…

"Sam?" Boromir asks

"Yesh?"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," I answer digging into my now empty bowl. Maybe he'll take a hint.

"Have you seen my horn?"

"Umm… no?" I answer.

"Samantha…" his voice goes low and dangerous.

Uh-oh.

I am in deep doo-doo.

"_What have you done to my horn?"_ he asks giving me such an evil glare I am forced to abandon my seat in front of the fire.

I hold up my hands.

"I didn't do anything!" I protest.

"Oh yes you did!" he shot back. "I know that look Samantha! Now _what did you do to my horn_!"

Am I scared?

Yes, I am. I am _very _scared.

So I did what any nineteen year-old-girl in my shoes would have done: I ran.

Of course he was right behind me, these people have superpowers.

I saw Haldir, Legolas and the twins up ahead and sped up to hide behind one of them.

"Sam?" Legolas asked, looking at me from over his shoulder.

Yes, I am hiding behind him, why do you ask?

"Hide me." I answered.

"Whatever for?" Haldir asks, amused.

"Boromir's going to break me." I answered squeakily.

"Is he now?" this from one of the twins.

I nod. I feel very much like a child hiding from her brother after breaking his prized drum or something.

"Why, pray tell would he do that?"

"Causehethinksididsomethingtohisprizedhorn." I mumbled.

"Pardon?" they asked simultaneously.

"He thinks I did something to his prized horn!" I shouted. "There, happy?"

"Very." Elladan, I think, answered.

"SAM!" Boromir bellowed.

I squeaked and clutched Legolas' from behind.

"Now Boromir," Legolas said diplomatically. "What is this about?"

"'Tis a family matter my lords," Boromir answered looking murderous. "I need to discuss something with my _dear_ sister."

"Certainly you can discuss this matter with us my friend." Haldir said haughtily.

"Samantha," Boromir said. "Come out from behind Legolas."

"I don't wanna," I answered childishly. "You're gonna break me."

"I will do no such thing!" he cried indignantly.

"Oh yes you will!" I shot back, my voice sounding muffled because I had my face buried in the elf's back. "I didn't do anything to your horn for your information. That horrible Uruk who nearly killed you broke it, so I threw it down the river before we left Amon Hen."

I let go of Legolas and peeked around him to look at my brother.

"I'm sorry. I know that horn was important to you and I shouldn't have thrown it into the river, broken or not. Can you forgive me?"

He ponders this for a moment and then approaches me.

He puts his arm around me and says, "Why would I break you?"

"I'm sorry." I repeated.

"All is forgiven." He answered, letting go and ruffling my hair.

**OoO**

"Samantha…"

I hear my voice whispered and looked up.

"Lord Elrond?" I ask, confused.

Why is he talking to me? I mean, he doesn't even know me, does he?

The elf-lord sits down next to me and fingers the hilt of one of my daggers.

"These are dark times you have fallen into my child." he said, his voice low.

"I know that." I answer.

"Do not let the horrors you face strip you of your zeal for life," he counseled. "Perhaps one day you and I might speak again. I and my adviser, Erestor would dearly love to learn about your world."

Caught off guard, I stared.

"What?"

The elf-lord smiled, that all-knowing smile elves love to use to befuddle us mortals, and left leaving me confused as hell.

**OoO**

"Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" came the voice of Legolas, leading his horse forward.

I, who had been luxuriously lounging on top of the last decent pillow and eating a bowl of soup, was forced to sit up and evacuate the contents of my mouth.

I jumped onto my feet and hurriedly grabbed my belongings and Charcoal before quickly stalking towards the boys.

"No. Way. In. Hell. Are. You. Going. To. Leave. Without. Me." I snarled through gritted teeth, which is quite an achievement if I may say so.

Seriously, do you know how hard it is to snarl when your teeth are clamped together?

Anyway…

"Sam, as brave as you are," one of the twins began. "This journey is not for you."

I glared.

"Don't you dare start with that kind of crap with me!" I shot at him.

I saw Boromir fidget from somewhere on my left.

I turned my gaze on Aragorn.

It's not likely to happen, but I could intimidate him.

Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

The soon-to-be-king looks at me for a long moment and then sighs.

That is a very resigned sigh.

Hopefully that means I'll be allowed to come along.

"Do you truly wish to come?" he asked.

I nod.

"Will you fight for the safety of Middle earth and its inhabitants?"

Another affirmative.

"Do you _truly_ wish to come?" he asks again.

"For the sake of sanity, coke and doughnuts Aragorn!" I exclaimed. "I said _yes_ didn't I? Besides, you and I both know that if you don't let me come, one way or another, I still will."

Another resigned sigh escapes His Reluctant Highness's lips.

He turns around to face the Dunedain and the others.

"She shall come with us."

Huzzah!

Grinning madly, I climb onto charcoal and we ride out.

Some may think me psychotic, and maybe I am, but yep, life is good.

Of course, my chipper mood was dampened somewhat when I saw the men's stricken faces as we rode out of Dunharrow and into the Dimholt Road.

Man, I feel bad.

I feel really bad.

"It is not yet too late to turn back." a voice whispered in my ear. I turned around, expecting to see Boromir.

Instead, I see Legolas.

"Bug off." I tell him. There is something in his eyes that I can't quite place.

I hear Gimli muttering something about leaving me be and sigh gratefully.

To be quite honest, I think I'm PMSing.

With one last look towards the camp at Dunharrow, I heave a sigh akin to Aragorn's.

If this whole trek is going to be nothing but a sexist festival, I'm going home.

This is gonna be a loooong ride.

**a/n: whoo, wasn't that a totally crappy chapter? Seriously, I apologize if this isn't really up to par. Anyways, tell me watcha think eh?**

**Review responses:**

**ColdPlayGirl: yeah, I agree. Sam is definitely dense. However, they didn't really know that Haldir was going to die so there's no reason for anyone besides Sam to be over the moon. Thanks for the review!**

Silver sliver: hey Alex! How go the poems? Yeah, I really don't like Denethor either…he's an old pillock; imagine how horrible he was to Faramir! Hope you liked the way I played out your request…even though I think it kinda sucked…

**Aisling Jace: stop it, you're making me blush! Haha, just kidding. Anyways, hope you liked this one!**

Chaco: thank you. I hope you like this one!

**Aya013: yeh, I love the twins too. They're awesome aren't they? So..did your head stop bleeding yet? Heh, kidding. You don't wanna stop your story; I don't want you to stop your story so it's agreed! You won't stop your story! As for ideas..how bout you put in some sort of new adversary for them to face, and I dunno…have Lita kidnapped or something. It'll be horrible for john I expect…**

Just me: hey! Glad you liked the previous chapter. Heh, I love the muffin man song.hope you like this one too.

Purplechick101: glad you like my story!

**BlackRosePoison-Orchid: I found your review funny. hehe, anyways, yeah I do like** **the word peachy. Hope you liked this chapter.**

Eimly2508: here you go love!

Scarlet-reBELLE: I sympathize with thee. Although I don't have a short attention span, I am extremely inobservant. Glad you liked this story, I appreciate it.

**SocksAreYummy: heh, yeah. There shall be a sequel. Anyway, i totally agree with you. LOTR extended versions are cool to the point of infinity! Btw, got any requests? Like for special scenes or something? Let me know in your review!**

Yourbestnightmare: here you go!

**Kanefire: I agree. He never will, and yes, some is clueless.**

ArwenEvenstar83: gah! You're back! I missed thee! Heh, yeah...you'll find out exactly what they did to him in the next few chapters. So glad you liked it!

**I'm out! Don't forget to click the nifty button before you go!**


	22. discoveries and the waking of the dead

**a/n: hey people! –readers glare- what? Did I do something wrong? –readers glare harder- er—ok! Fine! I'm sorry for not updating for so long! I lost track of things! I've been busy with my school's newspaper, covering competitions and writing features and editorials and stuff… I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting. So to make up for it, here is a long chappie!**

**Chapter 21: discoveries and the waking of the dead**

**-Sam-**

I wanna go home!

Stupid chauvinistic males!

I hate this trip!

I should never have come!

Now, some of you may be wondering why I am whining like a five year old, when I was the one who was itching to join the company in the first place.

Well, let's just say that things haven't exactly been a peach.

Apparently, not all of the rangers agreed with Aragorn's decision.

Some of them haven't said anything, as of yet, but two of them don't miss an opportunity for tormenting me.

It turns out they believe that a woman's place is in the house and not at war, with men.

-Insert rolling of eyes here- ha! Why am I not surprised?

I am so not looking forward to camp tonight. I mean, not only do we have to sleep on the cold, hard ground I have also been awarded the first watch.

Now, I am not one to argue. I'm used to keeping watch. I'm totally cool with staying up and watching for possible enemies, who could very well kill me, whilst the others sleep soundly and dream.

See?

Totally cool with it.

However, I am not all that comfortable with the fact that there is about a micrometer of space between me and a place where a bunch of glorified Halloween décor are holed up in.

But I ain't complaining! Nooo, no siree bob, not at all.

"Don't make me face the ghosts Boromir!" I whined, clutching my brother's leg like a child.

"Samantha!" Boromir groaned in exasperation as he tried to kick me off. "Let go this instant!"

"No!" I answer. "I don't _like_ ghosts!"

"GET OFF!"

**OoO**

Ok, so wailing my way out of it didn't work, what other tactic shall I try?

Alright, I know that was highly immature and humiliating but I _really_ feel uncomfortable being alone in the dead of night knowing that I'm so near to the army of the dead.

It's just…well it's creepy.

"What is it that you fear little one?" came a voice I recognized as one of the twins.

"Shuddup." I muttered sulkily.

Said twin laughs and places a hand on my shoulder in a placating manner.

"Come, come Samantha," he said jovially. "Tell the wise old sage what ails thee."

I take a closer look at the Elrondion in front of me.

_Aha!_

It's Elrohir!

How do I know?

Well ladies and muffins, let me clue you in on a nifty little trick o' mine.

You see, upon closer observation (which means I discovered this _only_ after three days of riding and _sheer boredom_), I noticed that the twins wore an identical elvish brooch that was pinned on different sides of their broad chests.

Also, they have different braids.

So yeah, Elladan wears his on the left and Elrohir wears his on the right.

Feel free to applaud my brilliance.

Err—

Never mind.

"Wise sage?" I repeat. "Since when?"

"You cut me deep my lady." He said, putting a hand over his heart.

I pull a face.

He laughs and steers me towards a rock to sit down.

We were silent for a few minutes before he turned to me.

"What is it that you fear Sam?" he repeats his earlier question, this time it's more urgent; more concerned.

I look away from his penetrating eyes. "It's nothing Elrohir."

I scramble to my feet and start to walk away when I feel a hand tightly latch on to my arm.

Elrohir pulls me back. "I know where you come from Samantha." He told me his voice a quiet whisper. "We know you come from a world not of our own and you know what may come to pass."

My eyes grew wide as I absorbed his words.

Shit.

If he knows then Elladan must know as well! I mean, I knew Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond know about me but—

Shit, this could throw off the very balance of the story!

They can't know that I come from a different world or that I know what's going to happen in the future; otherwise they're going to treat me all funky and I could completely ruin the sequence of events or the subtle things that define a certain point in the story!

And I don't think—wait— did he just say _we?_

"We?" I gasp. "Who's we?"

He lets go of my arm and sits down, motioning for me to sit back down as well.

"_Mellon nin_, you are a smart girl. You do not truly think that your companions would have allowed you to join their quest if they did not know about you did you?" he asked shooting a questioning glance at me.

I pondered this.

My shoulders slumped. "I-I guess," I began. "I never really gave much thought about it."

I paused, mulling things over.

Of course they knew! _How could I ever have thought otherwise?_ I mean, the fellowship saw us fall from the sky for crying out loud!

Stupid Sam! Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

Gah!

"I guess," I said after a very pregnant pause. "I really couldn't hide it could I? At least, not from the fellowship…I mean, it _was_ pretty obvious."

"For my own assurance," he said. "Will we get out of this alive?"

I turned to look at him. "E-Elrohir…I-I couldn't…"I broke off.

He gazed at me, some strange emotion stirring within his eyes that I couldn't identify.

"You cannot tell me then?" he said finally, after a _very_ pregnant pause. "Not even the most miniscule of hints?"

"It's not that I don't _want_ to," I explain. "It's just that I—I can't."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I-it's hard to explain," I answer, my brow furrowing, as I stumbled on my words. "But—I guess—I'm scared—I mean, it's—and I might change something by telling you and everything might get thoroughly ruined so I guess it's better if I just shut up right?"

I look at him, an apologetic expression on my face.

I mean, dude come on, _I_ said all that stuff and I didn't follow it.

There must be only so much an elf can take.

He takes a few minutes of silence. Whether it's to dissect some sort of intelligible meaning from my ramblings or to just plain think, I don't really know.

What I do know is this: I am in deep, _deep_ shit.

Wooh, boy.

"I understand." He says so suddenly I nearly fall off my seat. He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and walks off towards the direction of the camp.

I follow his retreating figure with a firm gaze a strange feeling of coldness settling on the pits of my stomach.

I have a bad feeling about this…

"**Do**_ you_?" I whisper into the still night air.

**OoO**

The next few days passed by in a blur.

The horses grew increasingly uneasy just as the men did.

The paths became more wild and tangled, making our travel laborious. The nights were foggier and an unshakeable air of gloom hung persistently above the company.

Call me pessimistic, but I truly believe they don't want us here.

There are just—eyes—I don't know how to explain it...just that I often dread being assigned the late night watches because I get this constant feeling that something's out there—following.

Watching…

I feel Charcoal shivering beside me and I gave him a reassuring pat.

"Easy boy," I whisper in what I hope is a soothing manner. "Easy."

He grunts and nuzzles my shoulder and we continue walking.

Up ahead, I hear murmurs from the men. A large cavern in the side of the mountains is looming in front of us.

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" I hear Gimli ask.

I hold on tighter to Charcoal's reins as we drew near to the cave.

"One that is cursed." Legolas answered. "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last King of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so, Isildur cursed them, never to rest, until they fulfilled their pledge."

I drew apart from the four men and sought solitude in the sidelines. I don't know why, but I just feel so gloomy…

"Who shall call them from the grey twilight?" Legolas asked, casting a meaningful glance at Aragorn. "The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom their oath they swore. From the north shall he come; need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the paths of the dead."

And finally, we have arrived.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away." Gimli commented.

"Aye, this is truly a place for the dead…" Boromir agreed.

Yep, got it right boys.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Legolas' voice drifts over to me from somewhere as he reads the markings on the entrance.

How does he do that?

How is it humanly possible for me to hear his voice, which is like a leaf whispering, when he's all the way over there with Aragorn?

I climb off of Charcoal and stroke him soothingly.

"This is encouraging…" I mutter sarcastically.

"Well this is a thing unheard of," I hear Gimli mutter indignantly. "An _Elf_ will go underground when a _Dwarf_ dares not?" he groans. "I'll never hear the end of it!"

And he marches in.

I stare at the mouth of the cave and see nothing but darkness.

"Uh, guys?" I call into the cave. "Do you think it's possible for me to just—I dunno—stay here and wait? I really don't like this cave."

No answer.

Gah! I _really_ hate caves. It's not the darkness that bothers me; it's what we'll _see_ when there _is_ light that's highly worrisome.

And there we stood; horse and woman.

I have a bad feeling about this…

"Sam," came a weary voice from inside the cave.

"Legolas, I _really_ don't like this cave." I told him. "I know it's stupid and that in general everyone's scared but I have this horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen in there and— I,"

"Sam." He interrupts. "Calm down."

I blink.

Nodding I take a few deep breaths.

"Better?" he asks with a smile.

"Not really, No." I answer. "But thanks for asking, trying, oh whatever."

"Sam, everyone is afraid. 'Tis a very dangerous road we tread."

"I know that." I answer. "I _told_ you, I don't like this place."

"That much is obvious."

I licked my lips and gave a wry smile. I opened my mouth to reiterate my earlier statement but Legolas puts a finger to my lips, effectively shutting me up.

Ugh!

I feel like such a—woman!

"Nothing will happen to you," he whispered. "If that is what you fear, then it is unfounded. I will let no harm come to you. You have my word."

I look around my surroundings with the air of one who shall never see light again.

"Legolas, Charcoal—I can't just leave him." I told him.

It's true; I can't leave my poor horse behind. What if something bad happened to him?

And yes, you're right I'm using every excuse I can find.

He walks over to my beautiful black stallion and whispers something into its ear.

Charcoal neighs and walks over to me. He gives me a soft nudge, and canters away.

"You shall meet again." Legolas mutters softly. He takes my hand and leads me into the cave, whilst I watch helplessly on as my horse turned the corner and out of sight.

I'm _so_ dead.

**OoO**

"Legolas?" I whisper as we tread through the dark passes.

"Yes?"

"Did I mention I'll hate you forever for bringing me in here?"

He gives my hand a squeeze. "I believe you failed to mention that."

Oh, did I forget to tell you that he still hasn't let go of my hand?

Heh.

I give a tug on my hand. Yep, still attached. Not that I _mind_ per se, but it is rather uncomfortable.

Gah!

A crunch resounded.

"What was that?" came Haldir's voice.

"That was me!" I offer.

"Sam?" this time from Elladan. "What happened?"

"I tripped over something." I answer, still unable to get off the ground. "Urgh. It stinks. One of you light a fire, will you?"

I hear Aragorn's and Boromir's voices giving orders and a scramble to get a fire started.

"Guys?" I call.

Dammit, I think I'm stuck.

I push on my elbows in another attempt to get upright. Instead of gaining leverage, I once again fall on my face onto the somewhat crunchy and slippery floor.

Urgh.

"A little help please." I squeak, fighting the urge to throw up.

A light flares up from somewhere to my left and an arm reaches downward to pull me up.

"This is why a woman should stay at home." The owner of the arm that helped me hissed venomously.

"Thanks cabbage-breath."

He glared at me with the intensity of a burning flame before we both caught sight of what I had tripped over.

Corpses.

Mounds and mounds of rotting corpses.

If you want an accurate picture, think of the bodies in Moria and multiply it by a hundred.

Looks like The Dead had a party and forgot to clean up for about—oh say, _FIVE THOUSAND YEARS_!

These must be the bodies of people who tried to take on the dead.

I couldn't help myself anymore; I stumbled towards a corner and spewed my guts up.

**OoO**

"Are you alright Sam?" Boromir asked, handing me some water. We've set up camp for the time being as I get cleaned up, and the rest try to figure out where we should go.

I nod and take the water from him, splashing it onto my face.

"You are sure?" he asks again.

I look at him and make a face. "Sure as ice."

"Good." Came a voice from behind me. I turn around to see good ole' Cabbage-breath and Ely-dung leering at me.

In case you're wondering, those two loons are the ones I was talking about. They're the ones who seem to have such a big problem with me.

"You have the first watch Lady Samantha." Ely-dung told me in what I think he believed to be a friendly tone, instead it came out sounding as if he were constipated.

I flashed them a grin. "Thanks boys, glad to know you have such good heads on your shoulders."

I watched with satisfaction as the forced grins slid off their faces.

"Sam," Boromir muttered warningly.

I threw a dirty look at Flotsam and Jetsam and sit back down in front of the fire.

Thankfully, we've found some sort of alcove leading away from the decaying corpses and are now able to breathe properly.

"I'm sorry Boromir. I'm just cranky I guess; literally bathing in corpses isn't exactly pleasant."

"Think nothing of it little sister. I'm sure they understand."

I'm sure they do.

This is just peachy.

**OoO**

And—we're off!

Once again setting out to god-knows-where to meet god-knows-what head-on.

We're getting closer, and frankly, I don't know if that's a good sign or not.

Urgh.

I feel so pathetic.

I mean, I've read the books; I've seen the films and I still feel terrified of seeing the army of the dead.

I liked them enough, I thought they were wicked cool when I read and watched them but now…

Methinks it has something to do with the fact that they are _oath breakers_ and may well kill us instead of fulfilling their oaths to Isildur like they're going to say they will.

Am I being prejudiced?

Yeah, I think I am.

God, hurl a thunderbolt at me will you?

--

Ok, still here.

To be honest I think this is because of a certain _brown-haired someone_, whose name shall not be mentioned, who broke her promise of always being there for me just when I needed her most.

The three of us, Natasha included, swore to be friends forever and to always look out for one another.

Tasha and I were there for _her_ when she needed us, but when my problem came she deserted me.

I don't know what happened really…she just came over one day and told me she didn't want to be my friend anymore.

Oh well, shit happens.

The point is, by breaking her promise and nearly killing me with her deranged psycho cousin, I now have some sort of deep-seated fear of oath breakers.

I am so pathetic, somebody turn me into a bug, put me into a box, mail me to yourself; and then squish me.

Ooh, Yzma moment.

Sorry 'bout that.

Oh my giddy aunt, we're here!

**OoO**

Wooh boy, if I thought the corpses of the people who tried to tread the paths of the dead was bad then I was sorely mistaken.

This is worse.

There are skulls in the walls flipping everywhere.

And—the temperature just dropped a couple of degrees or so, thus propagating the usage of cloaks.

"Sam," Boromir said.

"Yeah?"

"You're cloak is not properly tied, you will catch your death of cold." He answered pausing to fix my cloak.

"Thanks Mum." I mutter cheekily.

A little ways ahead I hear Gimli ask, "What is it, what do you see?"

"I see shapes of men and of horses." Legolas answered.

"Where?" this from Boromir.

"All around you." Haldir supplied helpfully.

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud." Elladan said in a low voice.

"Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist." Added Elrohir.

"The dead are following." Legolas said. "They have been summoned."

"Summoned?" I squeaked.

"The dead? Summoned?" Gimli paused. "I knew that. Very good, very good."

Gimli and I looked at each other, uncertainty written clearly on our faces.

We both looked around to see that most of our companions had already gone ahead.

With one last look, we both ran for it and shouted the same thing. "Legolas!"

--

We catch up to the others and avoided the up-reaching mist as best as we could.

Suddenly, Aragorn's voice rings out, strong and clear. "Do not look down."

Gah!

I know what this is!

The cracks are a dead give-away, if you'll pardon the lousy pun.

--

Aragorn leads the way to a large underground hall.

"Who enters my domain?" came a voice from beyond the grave.

"Shit!" I gasped, jumping in surprise and stepping on Haldir's foot. "Oh crap! Sorry Hal!"

"You are the bringer of mayhem, and more trouble than you are sometimes worth," He told me, clamping a hand over my mouth to shut me up. "But you are worth it _mellon nin_."

I rolled my eyes.

Elves are _weird_.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass." Beyond the grave stated.

Well, how bout that? He doesn't like us fleshies.

"You _will_ suffer _me_!" Aragorn cried, going into Kingly-ranger-dude mode.

The king laughs a high, cold laugh that sent shivers up and down my spine, and a city of ghosts appear and surround the breathing.

Oh dear…

"The way is shut," the King repeats, sounding very much like a broken horror record. "It was made by those who are dead; and the dead keep it. The way is shut."

I do believe I have no reason to fear…

They are, after all, just glorified Halloween décor.

"Now you must die…"

Ok, I take it back.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath." Aragorn cried.

"None but the King of Gondor may command me." Answered the king of the dead.

I watched as Aragorn pulled out Anduril and held it in front of him.

Pale 'n' pasty swings his ghostly sword at Aragorn who brings Anduril up for the block.

"That bind was broken!"

"It has been remade." Aragorn returns and shoves Pale 'n' pasty back.

He turns and surveys the soldiers of the dead.

"Fight for us, and regain your honor. What say you?"

He turns, looking expectant.

"What say you?" he repeats.

"You waste your time Aragorn," Gimli said, sounding superbly disdainful. "They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!" he cried, a hint of desperation evident in his gray eyes. "What say you?"

Pale 'n' Pasty sent Aragorn a horrible smirk and laughed his cold, cruel laugh as the ghostly army began to fade.

"You have my word!" Aragorn cried, this time truly desperate. "Fight for me and I will release you from this living death! What say you?"

"Stand you traitors!" Gimli roared.

But it was too late; the dead had disappeared. Haldir's hand dropped from its grip on my face and I felt my mouth quiver.

Just as I was going to walk over to Aragorn to offer a few words of comfort, a loud rumbling echoed through the cavern.

The company turned to see the doorway breaking and thousands of skulls flowing like water, straight at us.

"OUT!" Aragorn commanded.

We did _not_ need to be told twice.

Needless to say, we ran.

**OoO**

We manage to escape from the skull-wave and emerge from a doorway at the back of the mountain into the sunlight.

I squinted at the sudden brightness.

When my eyes had adjusted, I saw the lush green mountains and the shoreline of the sea.

Down below, were the black Corsair ships of the pirates and the cities they had ransacked.

I watch helplessly as Aragorn falls to his knees in despair.

Legolas places a hand on the shoulder of the heir when he suddenly turns, hearing a sound.

We follow his gaze and see the King of the Dead.

I see Aragorn's eyes go wide in surprise and I believe my own face mirrors the expression.

Only, if I know myself it's a whole heck of a lot worse.

My eyes must be as round as saucers and my mouth must be hanging open like there's no tomorrow.

All in all, yes, I _do_ look like a fish.

The King of the dead gazed at Aragorn, as if weighing something.

"We fight!"

**a/n: I really don't think this is up to par...And if you think so too I apologize. It's just that I've been writing nothing but stuff for the school paper and I'm trying to get back into sync with the style I use with this story. So I'm so sorry this sucked, I'll do better with the next one. Also, I will be able to update within the next two weeks because we have time off of school. So expect it!**

**Review responses:**

**Socks Are Yummy: yesh, the twins are mighty dishy aren't they? Hope you liked this chapter! and I hope you liked the scenes!**

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**Alfalfa: thanks! I'm glad you like it! **

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	23. teaser of DOOM

**a/n: hi guys! Er—I know I haven't been the best authoress in the world lately but I'm graduating and there are a LOT of things we have to do. I've barely had time to write properly and the only reason I'm posting now is because I wanted to give you guys a little taste of the next chapter.**

**Take note, this is only a teaser. Different in form to my first teaser but a teaser nonetheless. **

**WARNING: MASSIVE FLUFF BELOW. PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.**

**Chapter 22 teaser: Fluff ensues…**

Well, that was certainly fun.

Although, admittedly the pirates didn't much appreciate their beloved ships being wrenched from their possession by a bunch of glorified zombies.

And the army of the dead?

Yeah, they're not so bad after all.

I actually made friends with one of them. A young man who looks around 20-ish.

When he _died_ that is.

He goes by the name Naertho.

Which I couldn't pronounce at first and he had to tell me about six times before I finally got it right.

All the way towards the corsair ships he talked about his life, which quite surprisingly is not at all boring as I expected it to be, and had me laughing like a lunatic.

Or...more so than I already am.

We only separated to conquer, as it were, the pirate ships.

This of course was made much easier by the fact that we have ghosties on our side.

_Dead_ ghosties, might I add, who kick ma-hoo-ssive butt.

And wooh boy, you shoulda seen the looks on the scumbags' faces when we charged.

Priceless.

Abso-bloody-lutely priceless.

Now, Naertho and I are talking about the virtues of cheese.

Yes, cheese.

Can you see why I like him?

I laughed soundly at a joke he cracked and sufficiently turned a few heads.

Raising an eyebrow at them, I turned back to my companion, dead though he may be.

**OoO**

"Aragorn is looking for you little one." came a voice from somewhere in the world.

I opened a bleary eye from my rather comfortable position behind a large barrel.

"Whassat?" I mumble incoherently, trying to figure out who exactly I was speaking to amidst the haze of my sleepiness.

"Aragorn is looking for you." the bloke repeated. I concluded that it was a bloke basing the assumption on the knowledge that I was the only female that was stupid enough to accompany them.

Blinking a few times to clear the sleep from my eyes, I look up to see Haldir towering above me.

"Why?" I asked, standing up.

"I know not _mellon nin_." He answered in that haughty way of his.

I followed him to where his reluctant highness was and saw the entire caboose there.

All four of the elves, my brother, Gimli and Halbarad were all there.

Hang on; I just realized that I am on a pirate ship.

A _pirate_ ship!

This newly achieved realization bubbling through my veins, I grinned in glee.

"Ye called Cap'n?" I asked imitating Jack Sparrow and failing miserably.

"Is something wrong?" he asked a frown creasing his brow and worry adorning his eyes. "What ails you?"

Damn, he just looked so concerned and clueless I burst out laughing.

When I had finally calmed down a bit, Aragorn gave diplomacy another shot.

"Samantha, do you wish to help?" he asked, looking all regal.

I nod. "Well duh, why do you think I _came_ with you on this journey?"

He gave me a look and I shut my trap. He is one scaaaary man.

"I wish to assign a responsibility to you."

I blinked. "You do?"

"Yes; I want you to manage the kitchens."

I gaped at him. "You what?" I turned around to see if this were some joke.

"You're serious?" I asked.

"I heard from a very reliable source that you have excellent cooking skills." Aragorn said smiling warmly at me.

"Boromir told you didn't he?"

The soon-to-be king pulled a face. "Yes, he did."

I turned to my adoptive brother and glared at him. "I hate you."

He smiled sweetly at me. "I love you too Sam."

I walked over to him and promptly kicked him in the shin, then turned around and marched haughtily to the kitchen.

**OoO**

Whoever would have thought that pirate ships would have so much food stocked in 'em?

I certainly didn't.

I was actually preparing myself to work with lard and grease and heart-attacks the likes of which Samwise Gamgee would be drawn to like a magnet so imagine my surprise when I saw that the kitchen was absolutely beautiful.

I felt like tearing up.

Seriously.

The entire place was devoid of people, had herbs, produce, meat, poultry, sugar, everything.

I think I'm going to like this.

Rubbing my hands together, I set off to work.

**OoO**

"No, Baerlad!" I screeched. "Pepper does not go with the cake batter!"

Said ranger immediately withdraws his hands and retreats.

I throw a tomato at a particularly scruffy ranger and glare at him.

"But, milady," he protested. "I was only trying to help."

My glare intensifies. "_Help?_" I growl. "I'll tell you how you can help! Wash your hands and carry this," I shoved a basket of unwanted fruit into his arms. "Back to the pantry."

He nodded quickly and fled.

Still fuming I turned to the other rangers and gave them an almighty death glare and snapped, "What are you all looking at?"

Not wanting to have their heads bitten off by a highly volatile girl, they quickly went back to their assigned work.

Forgive me but I _really_ hate Aragorn right now.

I mean, here I was thinking that it would be pure bliss cooking in the sanctity of the unoccupied kitchen but _no_ Elessar Telcontar has to ruin all of my bloody fun.

He has to assign rangers to help me.

I mean, I'm a grown woman capable of handling things on my own but to add insult to injury when I pointed out that I wanted the glorious kitchen to myself he had to destroy all my fantasies by saying that it was a dingy mess and he would not feel comfortable leaving me alone in it.

This, if I may say so, was a very well-disguised insult.

There is no way the kingly-ranger-dude is getting any desert tonight.

Now, I decided to welcome the help provided and was actually under the delusion that things would be made easier for me by thee fully grown, battle-ready men.

Yes, I do realize that I was being delusional.

Apparently rangers aren't as used to kitchen-work as I had hoped.

Allow me to say it again, I hate Aragorn right now.

This is going to be a looong day.

**OoO**

Breathing a sigh of relief, I leave the kitchen and walk out onto the deck sucking in big gulps of air, dropping my bag on the floor.

I let the cool wind blow through my hair and let my muscles relax; it's been a long day.

The lights aboard the ship had been dimmed and only a few rangers were left yet awake. Sometimes, it felt nice to be a woman and underappreciated. I liked this solitude that my gender provided for me. Because I'm an insignificant speck of dust, no one feels the need to watch me or to find any remote interest in my actions.

With these thoughts in mind, a sigh escaped my lips and I smiled, feeling free for the first time in a while.

--

The night was silent and the stars were veiled by clouds. Occasionally, the pale, round moon peeked through its foggy blanket casting an eerie glow around the landscape as we passed by.

I cast a look around my surroundings warily. Satisfied that no one was near me, I clambered onto the ledge of the boat and dangled my feet in the air.

you might all be wondering what has gotten up my noggin to try such a thing, when I am quite blatantly afraid of heights but it was dark, so I couldn't see anything but the moon and the landscape.

I bent down to pick up the bag I had carelessly tossed aside my fingers humming with excitement.

It's been a long time since I set pencil to paper, and my fingers really miss the feel of the wooden utensil s I scribble out nothings.

Risking a bit more light, I take one long look at a particular island, absorbing the contours of its profile in the light of the moon, and set to work.

--

Awhile later, I added the last bits of shading and let out a sigh.

"You are very good." came a voice from behind me, making me jump out of my skin.

My heart pounding loudly, I turned around to see who it was.

Legolas.

I took a deep breath to still my pounding heart. "Legolas, we talked about this. No sneaking up on Sam, it's bad. Hear me? Baaaad, I have very jumpy nerves at the moment."

He smiled at me, making my heart want to melt.

Ahem, bad thoughts.

Very bad thoughts.

I should not be thinking of the eleven stud muffin that way, no matter how much I care for him.

He is an elf Samantha Marie Richards! He is a prince, what makes you think you have any chance whatsoever with him?

You're only setting yourself up for heartbreak, so stop this nonsense at once!

"I am sorry my lady, I had no intention of startling you but you were so engrossed in your work I thought it best to leave you be." he apologized softly.

I smiled at him. "It's all good."

**Haldir**

I sat down on a chair atop the first deck, stirring the ship and watching the strange pair down below.

Some people will do the strangest or the most wonderful things when they think they are not being watched.

"Sam," Legolas entreated. "Will you not come back onto the deck? Tis not safe for you to sit on the ledge in so precarious a manner."

As expected, the young edain made no move to do as the ellon asked. Instead, she cocked her head to the side regarding the prince with a curious look, the likes of which one would expect to find on a child.

"Why?" she asked.

"What if you were to fall? It is dark and we would be hard pressed trying to find you."

Sam smiled. "Come on Legolas, what are the odds of that happening?" she asked, in a no-nonsense tone, her attitude changing from child-like to that of an adult's. "It's such a calm night and the waters are so still."

"Even so my lady, my heart is still uneasy." Legolas answered. "These are dark times."

The silver moon slipped past its covering of cloud, and bathed all with a soft white glow. Such a romantic night, I thought with a mischievous grin. And Sam looks stunning in the moonlight.

"Honestly Legolas, you worry too much. Nothing's going to happen." came Sam's confident reassurance as she put her materials away.

Grinning, I give the steering wheel a flick and sent the ship jerking, not strong enough to cause damage or wake anyone asleep but more than enough to send Sam hurtling off the ledge she was sitting on.

Now we shall see if Haldir of Lorien still has the wits to play matchmaker.

**Legolas**

"Nothing's going to happen." Sam reassured me, as she continued to sit on the ledge. As soon as the words were out of her mouth however, the ship gave a lurch that nearly sent her toppling overboard.

"SAM!" I shouted, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her towards the deck.

"Are you alright?" I asked her. My heart was pounding in my chest at the thought of losing her.

She was shaking.

"Sam?" I murmured, brushing her hair away from her face and gently forcing her to meet my gaze.

"BLOODY.HELL." she muttered in a terrified voice. I wrapped my arms around her, marvelling at how easily she fit inside my arms.

"The deities hate me." she muttered shaking her head and burying her face in my chest.

"Hush, you silly girl." I told her gently. "Why is it that you never listen to me?"

"I _do_ listen to you, you stupid elf." came her muffled reply. "It's just that I don't heed what I hear."

I chuckle at her answer which was typically Samantha.

"Sam?" I began.

"Yeah?"

"What was your father like?" I asked, wanting to learn more about her.

I felt her stiffen in my arms, and I regretted my words instantly.

"I'm sorry Sam." I whisper.

She shook her head and I felt her breath catch.

"Sam?"

"I'm sorry…" she answered. I could feel the material of my tunic getting soaked and I knew she was crying. "I just didn't expect that question."

"You do not have to answer me if you do not wish to." I told her, shifting her away from me slightly to wipe the tears from her face.

She shook her head. "N-No…I think I should talk about him. Keep his memory alive y'know?"

I nodded.

She broke away from me, and walked back to the ledge leaning on it. I followed her, my arms snaking around her waist unbidden; automatic.

"He's the best father anyone could ask for. He grew up in a poor family and worked hard for most of his life to build up a business that would take him out of poverty. He was a merchant, as far as the definition goes. When I was a kid, I always thought that he and my mom would be together forever. They rarely fought, and when they did it never lasted for very long. So I grew up with the illusion that I had a good family." She gave a bitter chuckle.

"I had a good childhood, Daddy was very successful and we never had to worry about anything. I always thought we were happy, I was with my parents and that was enough for me. But for some reason, that wasn't enough for my mom. She wanted something more, something she said Dad couldn't give. So one day, after Dad and I came home from a trip we found mom doing the nasty with the chauffeur."

"What is a chauffeur?" I asked feeling slightly abashed for interrupting.

"It's a driver; as in someone who drives a chariot or some such thing." She explained.

"Ah, I see." I nodded for her to continue.

"After that they got divorced, that is they separated and were no longer married according to legal laws, and Mom moved out of the house. I visited her every other weekend but I never really looked forward to it. Daddy was really affected by the divorce and he couldn't go to work for a month because he thought he was a bad husband for not being able to save his marriage. It broke my heart seeing him like that…I love him so much. I could talk to him about anything without having to worry about being judged. I admit I was spoiled rotten which is probably the reason why you guys think I'm a handful sometimes."

I smile at this but my smile dies on my face when I realize that she is sobbing.

"Shh…" I whisper, wrapping my arms around her again. "Tis alright. You need not act strong in front of me; it is perfectly alright to yearn for your father"

I held her until her tears stopped a light feeling in my chest for having accomplished my goal. For the most part of this journey, this girl has been a closed book to me. I know little about her past but now, little by little they are being revealed.

"Legolas?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind letting go of me now?" she asked, sounding as if she much preferred if he didn't.

"Actually, I _would_ mind, as I am quite enjoying my time with you." I answered, a bit of a challenge in my voice.

"But-but," she spluttered, pulling away just enough to look at him. "This is wrong."

She averts her eyes.

"Wrong?" I ask her, confused. "What do you mean wrong?"

"We shouldn't be doing this." She answers.

I hold her chin and gently turn her face towards mine. "Why shouldn't we?" I asked my face inches from hers.

For one tantalizing moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, I lowered my head closer to hers and was bent on the intent to kiss her but the moment ended.

As the light of dawn broke through the clouds, she pushed me away and fled.

"GONDOR!!!" The men shouted. "We have reached Minas Tirith! Prepare for war!"

With one last look at the direction Samantha had gone, I heave a sigh, confusion and hurt seeping through me.

War has come.

**a/n: what did you all think? This is still subject to a bit revision, so if you want me to add, subtract or change anything, don't hesitate to tell me in your review!**

**To aya013: this is your request aya-ness. Tell me if you liked it or not, will you? I really feel bad for not posting in so long… the next post will be the full chapter and all your requests shall be accounted for.**

**Shadow08**


	24. when seagulls cry

**A/N: ****Hiiii****. Yes, it's an update. :D Aren't you surprised? I know I am. Anyway, just a very ****very**** short filler ****chappie**** to let you know that I have ****NOT abandoned**** this story. Life has just severely gotten in the way but now I'm back and so is my ****mojo**** so. ****Yay**** :D**

**Chapter 24: When the seagulls cry…**

Ask me who the idiot is. Go on, ask me.

Yep, that's right. It's me.

Urgh.

I don't know what I was thinking, letting things go the way they did. It's _not right_. He's an _elf_. An Elven Prince at that and what am I? A clumsy, insignificant mortal woman. Doomed to die, most likely in the next few hours as the Battle for the fields of Cormallen or whatever that dang place is called, ensues.

I bury my face in my hands and slide onto the bed. Come on Sam, breathe in; breathe out.

I think I'm hyperventilating.

A knock sounds upon the door and Boromir enters, effectively saving me from a panic attack.

"Little Sister?" he asks in a concerned tone and for a second, I almost think Legolas told him about what happened. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I answer, ripping a thick piece of cloth from the curtain and tying my hair back. "Just…anxious. Big beasties out there."

He offers a smile; one that I think is supposed to make me feel better but falls just short of the intended mark. "You do not have to get off the ship, you know."

I make a face at him and punch him lightly on the arm. "Nice try but there's not a chance in hell that's going to happen."

He sighs and pulls me off the bed. "If that is the case then, you best get yourself together. We disembark in three minutes."

**OoO**

"Late as usual!" a harsh voice shouts angrily from the shore. "Pirate scum! There's work that needs to be doing."

I sneak a peak from my post and watch a really nasty looking orc approach the ship. "Come on, ya see rats! Get off your ship!"

Someone gives the cue for us to jump and I heave myself off of the wood, feeling the wind wooshing past my face and I give an involuntary giggle.

Why yes, I am a little bit touched in the head, why do you ask?

From somewhere beside me, I hear Gimli and Legolas starting up their orc-killing contest again and roll my eyes. Seriously, men.

The orcs stare at our little party like we were a bunch of fruit flies trying to fight off bumblebees and give into a round of raucous laughter. We all raise our swords in one swift motion and charge, the greenish glow of the Army of the Dead looming right behind us.

Who's laughing now, huh, assholes?

**OoO**

So, we're fighting.

You know how fighting more often than not entails having rhythm? Well apparently, once you've got your battle rhythm down, you'll never forget it. Sort of like riding a bike, only about a hundred times cooler. Thank the Valar though, because if that weren't the case I'd probably have died loooong before. Like, sometime in Moria, most probably.

But then again, that may be just me being pessimistic.

Side step here; push dagger into an orc to the left; quick slash to the right; block.

I try my hardest to keep up with the pace and not fall flat on my face and kill myself when I see that big ugly orc with the face that looks like a cross between a road kill pug and a pig and feel my blood run cold.

"Bum bugger shitpie." I mutter incoherently under my breath. HURRY UP ARAGORN.

HURRY UP.

**A/N: See? Told you it was really short. But I'll get cracking on the next chapter tomorrow and hopefully it'll be up by next weekend. I'm back guys. Rejoice with me. :D**

**No review responses this time. I'm sleepy. Just know that all of your reviews are what prompted me to start working on this again. So, I love you all. I missed Sam.**


	25. I have very bad thoughts

**A/n: Look, a quick update:D Aren't you proud of me? I told you I'm back. Now get back here all of my precious reviewers. I miss you. And why is it that I receive alerts that this story has been added to a favorites list yet I receive no reviews? Change that, please:D And enjoy.**

**Chapter 25: I have very bad thoughts.**

WHERE THE HELL IS HE?

He needs to haul his Kingly ass over here and help Eowyn before I have an aneurism. I chop up a few orcs and jump to avoid a flailing sword, keeping an eye on Eowyn. Hey, we may not agree on a few things but she's still a pretty awesome chick and we're kind of, sort of, friends.

Or, I think we are.

This non-interference thing really sucks. But I've already caused enough havoc on the Grand Design and I think messing up something that was supposed to happen in Battle, yes, with a capital B, would just be pushing it.

After what seems like eons, Aragorn and Gimli _finally_ come charging past and cut down the piggy orc that was about to slash Eowyn. Seriously, what took them so long? I sneak a glance at my terribly unfortunate looking watch and notice that not five minutes had elapsed.

WHAT?

I'm losing my sense of time too? Fucking fabulous. I feel a stinging in my side and turn to see an Uruk-hai slice at me. Fantastic; this is what you get for spacing out on a battlefield.

Stupid.

I bare my teeth at it, yes like a dog, and raise Keiko. It's a particularly big Uruk and it looks at me as if the very idea of a woman being there carrying a sword was laughable.

Great. A sexually biased monster. Have I mentioned how wonderful my luck is?

He leers at me and licks his lips.

Uh. Eeew.

That is an image I could have lived my entire life without. I make a face at him and give him the finger. I doubt he has any idea what it means but hey, it sure makes me feel better.

What?

I think I'm allowed to be rude and bitchy to a non-human entity that's twice my size and is possibly contemplating eating me. My grasp on Keiko's hilt tightens and I rush forward.

Don't look at me like that, I was getting bored. Until now, I never thought it was possible to feel objectified by an Uruk-hai.

Guess you learn something new everyday, huh?

**OoO**

HOLY CRAP.

WHY WON'T THESE DAMN THINGS DIE?

SERIOUSLY.

We've been at it for an hour now.

I've got another stomach wound and I have bruises in places I didn't know could bruise. He's missing an arm.

Yes, an arm. Yes, he's still alive and kicking. Hence my chief complaint that the damn things just refuse to leave the mortal coil.

He snarls at me and I notice his mouth foaming slightly. I grimace and force back the urge to gag.

Mordor really needs to improve its health care privileges.

We trade blows. I'm beginning to get very scared now. The thing's got one arm and a big heavy sword and I'm still not getting anywhere.

I sidestep his next swipe, spin around and slash at his chest. I miss. Damn my aim to hell and back. He retaliates with a quick jab and I bring a dagger up to block him. I dig my heels into the ground and try to stay in place as he puts all his weight on his sword to push me.

He grins at me; teeth bared out in all their yellowish glory as he quickly retracts his sword, sending me off-balance and then swings it upwards in a graceful arc. I barely have enough time to raise my sword for a block, when I fall to my knees, a sharp pain coursing through my left leg.

Oh my giddy aunt. I cannot move my leg.

Perfect timing to up and break down, leg. Just wait until I'm at the mercy of an Uruk with about ninety-nine point nine percent chance of getting killed.

Little White Men? You are all SO fired.

The sun shines high in the sky and reflects off of the sword trained at me and I cannot help but see the irony. The sun is shining, the grass is green, the birds are singing, and I'm going to die on a bloody battlefield and eaten by a one-armed Uruk.

Sort of makes me wish I'd kissed the damn elf.

NO. BAD THOUGHTS, SAMANTHA.

The Uruk kicks away my weapons and raises his, one last time as I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper the name of the first person that comes to mind.

"_Legolas_."

Now where'd _that_ come from?

…

…

Still waiting for that death blow.

Hello? Anyone there? Am I dead?

I open my eyes and find, much to my surprise, my Uruk (yes, I'm possessive.) lying dead on the ground. Arrows poking through his mouth, chest and stomach.

From about twenty feet away I see the elf standing on top of an Oliphaunt carcass, blond hair shimmering in the sunlight and billowing in the breeze. All that's missing is a pink dress and a crown and he'd pass off as Sleeping Beauty.

He's a Fairytale Princess that just saved my life.

Oh my stars.

**OoO**

And just like that, the battle's over. The Army of the Dead swept over the fields like acid over wood. And we took care of the stuff they overlooked. All in all it was a good arrangement, until I got so rudely beaten up by a severely chauvinistic Uruk-hai that I was supposed to name until he started trying to seriously _kill me_, in which case I deemed him unworthy of cool names.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asks as he picks me up from where I lay on the ground in a useless heap.

"I'll live." I answer, grimly. He lowers me to the ground and I cry out as pain shoots up my leg.

Owie.

"I think maybe my foot is broken." I state nonchalantly. He gives me a bemused look and sweeps me off my feet again, take that however you want to, and starts walking.

"Did I not say you should have stayed aboard the ship?" he mutters quietly. He sounds bitter, and I quirk an eyebrow at him wonderingly.

"Did you really think I'd agree to stay on the ship?" he shakes his head, no. I laugh.

"It does not change the fact that you should have." He's pouty, like a child and I raise a dirty hand and wipe it across his face.

He looks at me like I'm crazy and I give him a grin that would have made an insane person proud and admire my handiwork.

"That is what you get for being all chauvinistic on me." I told him crossing my arms across my chest haughtily.

Oddly enough, he looks really cute when his face is all dirty like this.

…

…

EARTH, OPEN UP AND SWALLOW ME WHOLE. RID YOUR FACE OF MY PATHETIC-NESS.

**OoO**

So, after walking for about ten minutes, we finally reached Aragorn who looks like he's heading a faction of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Naertho waves at me from somewhere in the sea of green and I wave back spiritedly.

Oh puns.

He glides over to where Legolas and I stand and gives a little bow before grinning at me. It's creepy because they have a habit of flashing all the stages of decay but I grin back.

Just because he's dead and supremely creepy doesn't mean he's any less cool.

Yes, I am aware that I have massive perspective issues.

"Sam!" a voice pipes up and I look around from the elf's arms in search of it.

"PIPPIN!!" I squeal, possibly shattering the eardrums of the elves present but do I care? Uh, no. My favorite hobbit is here!

Legolas shakes his head, but an amused grin is on his face so I figure I'm safe. He puts me down on a dead Oliphaunt, probably the one he was standing on earlier when he was imitating a Disney Princess and saved my sorry ass and I thanked him.

"You're hurt?" The hobbit asks, frowning at me. I give him a bemused grin as I nod. It's weird, y'know, having someone that's half your size look at you in such a severe manner.

"I had a particularly nasty run-in with an Uruk-hai." I tell him. "But I'll be fine; I'm bionic, don't you know?"

He looks confused. I don't blame him; I make too many pop culture references for my own good.

"I think you should just smile and nod Pip." I advise laughingly.

He obeys.

I always knew he was a smart hobbit.

Silence rushes over everyone as Aragorn walks up to face the Long Dead King, otherwise known as Pale 'n' Pasty. Why?

I don't know. When have my ramblings ever made enough sense to warrant explanation?

"Release us." He lumbers. Well, to be honest it's more of a do as I say or I take you down to the pit with me kind of statement as opposed to the sweet as sugar and nice all around stuff he should be saying, since, you know, he's the underdog here.

"Bad idea." Gimli pipes in from beside the Kingly Ranger dude and I almost have to punch myself in the face to keep from laughing. "Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact that they're dead/"

Oh Gimli, I love you so.

"You gave us your word!" the ghost cries out indignantly. As indignant as a ghost that's basically your own private home movie of the decaying process can be. Which is a lot.

A lot scarier than you'd think, I mean.

Aragorn looks like he's seriously contemplating heeding Gimli's words before he sighs and looks back at the ghost. "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go, be at peace."

The King of the Dead gives a blissful grin, and I try not to freak out, and fade away. I hear Naertho whisper a goodbye and do a complicated bow and I wave goodbye to him.

My ghostly companion is finally at peace. Good for him.

Annnnd, we're bowing to the King.

**OoO**

"Every able man must search through the carcasses for any survivors." Aragorn commands to the very bleak looking populace.

Boromir nearly bowls over some soldiers as he makes his way towards me. I grin cheerfully up at him. He can't possibly want to hurt me if I look as nice as I possibly can, right?

Right.

"**You** are going to the Houses of Healing, _now._" He snarls. He looks pissed and there's a gash on his arm.

"So are you, bucko." I retort, grinning smugly. He looks at me like I'm insane.

I get that look a lot don't I?

"Hello? Wound on shoulder. BIG wound on shoulder with red, icky blood pouring out. "I reinforce when he doesn't get it. He shrugs and shakes his head.

"Tis nothing. I can handle myself." He glares. "_You_, meanwhile, are going to the Houses of Healing to set your leg right."

He picks me up easily, like a bag of yesterday's trash, and carries me off whilst I glare darkly at him and mutter about elves that should learn when to shut their mouths.

**OoO**

By the Valar's grace, GET ME OUT OF HERE.

I can't stand it anymore.

There are women flipping _everywhere_. And no, I have not suddenly turned my back on my own gender. There so many female healers here and all of them are paying attention to anything and everything that isn't me. I realize that sounds conceited, especially since there are probably a hundred wounded soldiers in need of much more healing than I do.

That's my point right there. If somebody could just give me five minutes then maybe I can actually be useful and help in finding survivors.

A large, old woman walks by me and I quickly grab the edge of her apron to stop her.

"Hey." I offer my best nice girl smile. "I don't mean to be rude or anything but I've been here for two hours now and no one's looked twice at me. I know there are about a bajillion others who are worse off but if one of you could just put my leg in a splint, I can go back out there with Boromir and help find the other survivors."

She gapes at me for a few minutes.

Sure, take your time. It's not like I've got anything better to do. Jeez.

"Of course, of course," she says helping me off of the chair and onto a proper erm—place? Whatever. I have no knowledge of these terms. Let's just call it a bunk.

"Do you have word on the status of Eowyn and Merry?" I ask her as she works. She looks up at me in confusion and I'm forced to elaborate. "The Lady of Rohan; you know, the pretty chick with the fair skin and golden hair. And the Hobbit; really tiny chap with lots of curly hair and big hairy feet."

"Ah my lady, you would not wish to hear of it." She says, sighing.

Psh, like that'll really stop me. I press on. "They're my friends. I must know."

She shakes her head. "They sleep as though they might never wake, their piteous screams and constant shivering, the only things that tell us they still live."

My face falls. Shouldn't Aragorn have healed them by now?

"We are doing the very best we can for them, of course, such is the way of Gondor but there is naught much we can do. Would that there were a king on the throne and we might've had a little bit more luck with this. My father used to say that the hands of the king are the hands of a healer, you know."

Chatty isn't she?

I just _had_ to grab her apron.

In my defense, she looked like the quiet type. It figures that my judge of character would be—hang on a minute.

"What did you just say?" I demand, grabbing her shoulders as she finishes.

"Such a pretty young thing as you should really be more careful?"

I wave a hand in her face dismissively. "I'm incapable of that; clumsy as hell, is what I am but no, _before_ that."

"The hands of the King are the hands of a healer, my lady." She recounts. "Tis an old wives' tale."

"Woman, you have no idea how awesome you are." I grin exuberantly at her, jump off the table and proceed to limp out of the Houses of Healing.

"Aragorn!!" I scream jubilantly through the halls.

They're going to be alright.

**A/N: Requests? ****Opinions?****Comments?****Suggestions?****Violent Reactions?**** Review and speak your mind!**


	26. the triple s's

**A/n: look who's back. Haha. Yes, I have returned with another installment. Since I've officially finished my first year of college, you can now expect quicker updates. And hopefully this will convince you all that I'm back and the people who keep putting me on their alert lists, -pointed look- will finally review. Now, enough chit-chat, here's the next chapter.**

**Chapter 26: sprains, spacing out and suicidal tendencies**

**-Sam-**

So, I'm thinking that limping out of the Houses of Healing with no clear idea of where I'm headed isn't one of the best ideas I've ever had. Especially since, even with a photographic memory my sense of direction is nigh on abysmal and I have no idea where the boys are.

Let's not add to that the fact that Gondor is huge.

"Aragorn!" I holler for about the fifth time, entertaining the thought that maybe if I yelled loud enough he'll just magically appear in front of me.

Obviously it's not going to happen.

Dang.

The people are staring at me.

I try very hard not to say something disparaging. What? I don't like being stared at thanks very much.

I turn a corner and come face-to-face with a long flight of stairs.

Insert long-suffering sigh here.

Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me.

**OoO**

After an hour of walking—oh, alright _stumbling_ along, I finally find the boys holed up in a tent on the fourth circle. I burst in; flushed and badly scraped from the two flights of stairs I nearly rolled down on and glare darkly at them.

"Seriously," I snap. "_None_ of you could have been bothered to tell me where I could find you?"

I glare at the group and stumble into the tent, grateful for the shade and the chair Hal quickly offers me. Aragorn looks blankly at me, like he doesn't know what I'm so mad about. 

My glare intensifies. 

I mean, seriously, is a little consideration too much to ask for? You'd think, being the only girl they brought along on this circus trip to hell they'd take a few moments and think, 'Oh, Samantha's injured. We should at least tell her where we're going so she knows where to find us.'

But _no_, I don't deserve to know _anything_ and for all anyone cares I could have limped all the way down to the freaking Fields of Cormallen and disappeared.

In case you haven't guessed, yes, I am feeling _very_ unappreciated.

"I've been looking for Aragorn for over an hour now." I grumble, wiping soot off my cheek. Ugh, do you even have to ask? Yes, the floor felt compelled to give me a present when I fell down.

The King-to-be in question looks curiously at me from behind a large table.

I think he wants me to explain myself.

Well, what if I don't want to explain, huh, traitor beard? What do you say to _that_?

Legolas clears his throat, looking amused.

I glare at him.

Yes, my tongue is a mutinous little thing.

I pause for dramatic effect.

No, really.

…

Fine, be difficult.

"So I was talking to one of the healers up there and she was yammering on and on, about something or another; you know them, talking is like, second nature to them or something." I hear someone snickering from behind me and I turn around to glare darkly at Elladan. "I heard that _peredhil_. Anyway, the point is, the old woman who fixed my leg, if you could call what she did fixing, said something about an old wives' tale."

Boromir's eyes light up at this, like he knows what I'm talking about.

"The hands of the King are the hands of a healer." He supplies, helpfully.

"Yes, that. And this is a good thing, you know? Because not only can you save Merry, Eowyn and Faramir you can also prove to the people that you are the rightful king. Isildur's heir and all that." He looks doubtful so I roll my eyes and push myself off the chair.

"Don't even start that reluctance crap with me, Aragorn." I snap, limping awkwardly over to him. "I did not just limp all the way down here, for you to say no. Do you see this puny body? It's riddled with bruises because of you. So you _have_ to do this."

Okay, so maybe that's not the best way to go about it, but I need something to make my ego feel just a _little _bit better.

I nearly trip over the table leg and Legolas rushes forward to grab my arm. I ignore this, in spite of the lovely red of my cheeks; I'm on a roll.

"You know, scratch that. You don't even have to think you're doing this for me, because after all I'm an insignificant speck; think of Merry and Eowyn and Faramir. Think of how becoming King is your destiny and the fact that your destiny has a hell of a lot to do with this war and the life of your future queen." I poke him in the chest once, and then fold my arms and look haughtily up at him.

Yes, haughtily.

Don't look so disbelieving, I can be haughty.

He locks gazes with me and I see the anxiety and the exhaustion in his piercing gray eyes, and for a moment I'm afraid he'll turn away. But the moment passes and a smile comes to his face. He looks at me, a proud twinkle in his eyes.

"What's it gonna be, honeychild?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Come."

My grin is huge and not entirely safe for young children but oh, well.

They're going to be okay.

"You did well." Legolas whispers in my ear as we all file out of the tent to follow the King. His arm snakes around my waist to help me walk. I laugh and can't help but think that maybe, I will be too.

**OoO**

So, from the get go, Eomer and I have never gotten along right? He disapproves of my involvement in the war because I'm a woman and I purposely rub it in his face to annoy him. It's a love-hate relationship.

That leans more towards the latter than the former, admittedly.

ANYWAY.

Point is I_ never_ in a million years would have expected him to approach me of his own accord. So, imagine my surprise when I look up from my seat in the dining hall that night, to see Mr. Testosterone himself, looming over me.

"Can I help you?" I offer, trying in vain to hide my surprise.

He takes a deep breath, and I can tell this must be big. "She is awake."

Again with the huge grin. This is quickly becoming a trend.

And yes, he means Eowyn.

"Thank You," he says quietly. I nearly fall out of my seat, having been in the process of standing up, and turn to stare at him. "Eowyn is all I have left, and you played a large part in her recovery."

For some reason, for which I will plead momentary insanity for, I smile warmly at him and say, "All in a day's work, honeychild."

No, that's not the crazy part.

Wait for it.

And then I plant a kiss on his cheek.

Honestly? I blame the blood loss.

I limp out of the dining hall, dancing as well as my injured leg allows. I very nearly bowl Legolas over, but I pull him along with me at the last second, making a mental note to ask him why he looks like he's swallowed a bitter melon and why he's glaring at Eomer.

**OoO**

"You are a strange, strange young woman, Sam." Legolas informs me as I leap face first onto a bed.

I roll on my side to face him and give him a flippant grin.

I am seriously way too smiley, these past few days.

I think I may be damaged.

"Legolas, it's a bed. It's a bed with soft fluffy pillows, warm silky blankets and a bouncy mattress. This moment is akin to a reunion between you and Aragorn, after sixty years. Please, do not ruin my moment."

He laughs at me and I make a face as I point out, "Also, you're in a lady's bedchamber. People will be wondering what you're doing in here. Now unless you want Boromir to completely flip out and forcibly marry us, I suggest you get out."

I roll off the bed, thank the Lord my leg is better, and offer a grin, but my smile slides off my face when I see the look on his face. He looks like he's just swallowed a rock or something equally as hard and it's not going down easy. I throw him a concerned look, to which he shakes his head.

Elves are weird.

I let the strangeness pass and return to the bed, burying my face in the pillow. Boromir, through some strange and unknown Child of the Steward Power, manages to wrangle it that the rooms I'm given are in the family bedchambers. 

Right, so the how isn't really that hard to figure out but the why?

Personally, I think he just wants to make sure I don't get into trouble.

Yes, of that variety.

Bloody overprotective, I say.

My mouth creaks open as I let out a massive yawn and I wave at Legolas and close my eyes.

"G'night Prince Charming," I mutter sleepily. "Wake me up in ten years."

And I'm out like a light.

Pathetic, really.

**OoO**

Now, when I say ten years I, of course, did not mean a decade. What I did mean was that they should wake me up in about…oh say, a week?

That's what _normal_ people would do, right? Especially if you know that the sleeping person in question has been deprived of sleep and a proper bed for far too long than is necessary.

But apparently, my brother is not normal. At all.

Hence the jumping on my bed so early in the freaking morning, with a manic grin on his face.

Definitely one too many hits to the head, this one.

I groan and yank the duvet over my head, completely set to burrow into the pillow and refuse to resurface until I get a good 72 hours of sleep. Maybe he'll get the idea and go away.

My legs are suddenly greeted by cold air as the duvet is ripped from my body. In my sleep-induced stupor I make a few blind swipes at the air in an effort to regain warmth.

"Get up, little sister." Boromir says, happily. _How _he can possibly be so happy this early in the morning is beyond my skill to comprehend.

I give him the finger, which I believe I told him about somewhere along the journey, and he laughs at me and tells me to get ready while he waits for me outside.

I glare at him from the floor, where I had fallen in a tangled heap, before making my way to the bathroom.

Sodding brother.

…

I spend almost half an hour in the tub, my hair soaking in some sort of sweet-smelling herbal thing someone had set out, and the warm water swirling around me.

I swear, if Boromir hadn't threatened to break down the door, I wouldn't have come out till I resembled a prune. It was _that_ good.

Once I was dressed in a pair of my lesser worn jeans and a shirt, I walk out to find my brother lying on my bed.

I must remember to ask him who prepared the bath later. 

And then work it so whoever it is will get assigned to me and not to anyone else, because the baths are divine.

Yes, I'm selfish, so there.

"I'm showered, I'm dressed, and I'm pretty. Now what the hell is the meaning of this?" I demand, kicking him in the shin to make him move.

He cracks an eye open and grins at me.

Bloody hell.

He _is_ a psycho.

"We have a plan." He announces proudly. "Or at least, the makings of one."

I make a face at him and tug him upright. "Get off your arse then, lummack. Let's go see His Reluctant Highness."

"Of course, of course." He answers, nearly bouncing out of the room in delight. I kid you not. "Legolas has been looking for you. Is it true that you called him Prince Charming last night?"

I gape at him in surprise.

I knew that look was going to get infuriating.

Ugh.

Bloody brother.

**OoO**

Everyone's gathered in the throne room, doing either one of two things: mucking about or contemplating. The head honchos are in a corner, eyebrows knit together in concentration as they think of a way to save all our asses, and by that I do mean Aragorn, Gandalf, Eomer and Boromir.

It's nice to know that my brother will ditch me without a moment's notice to save Middle Earth.

Shut up, no I'm not bitter. I do think I'm suffering from PMS though.

Legolas is off by the window, staring out at Valar-knows-what.

Gimli is sitting on the throne, smoking his pipe.

The twins and Hal are at the table, with Merry and Pippin who are surrounded by food.

Am I surprised?

Uh, no not even a little bit.

And oh look! It's the shield maiden and my other brother.

Yes, Eowyn and Faramir.

I giggle, thus announcing my presence to the entire room. Admittedly they all stared at me like I'm insane, because in their feeble minds there must be precious little to giggle about in these dark times but hey, I'm strange.

Besides, Faramir and Eowyn are sitting too close for new acquaintances. 

So, hee.

One of the twins bounds over to me and pinches my cheek. It takes a second for me to process that it's Elladan and I stare at him, before asking if he's had sugar and if he could possibly get me some.

I am met with a manic grin.

Seriously, what is with these people?

You'd think the manic grin I did yesterday was the start of an epidemic.

…

Oh dear lord, that's it.

I started this.

People must have thought I'd gone insane because of all the manic grinning and thought it'd be okay if they followed in my footsteps! This is a tragedy!

Or not.

I have a flair for the dramatic, in case you haven't noticed.

Elladan drags me to the table where Boromir soon follows, breaking off from the elite group of honchos by the corner to sit next to me.

Well gee; don't feel like you have to grace me with your presence now.

He turns to Faramir.

"Faramir, this is Samantha. She is one of my companions; a particularly weighty one since she saved my life in Parth Galen. She is your new sister."

I choke on a blueberry when he mentioned the life-saving part and turned bright red at the cheeks. Faramir grinned at me and practically pulled me over for a hug.

These people are seriously out of their minds.

Bloody, officially, clinically insane I tell you.

Once the hugging and chatter was finished, I swung a leg over the bench and turned to face Aragorn.

"So, studly, what's the plan?" he stares at me for a few seconds before shaking his head in exasperation and answering me.

"We have none."

I stare at him, mouth agape before I turn to Boromir and hit him upside the head.

"What the bloody hell did you wake me up for?" I demand.

He opens his mouth to answer but Gandalf cuts him off.

"Now is not the time to start bickering like children!" he snaps at us, before his face turns serious. "Frodo has passed beyond my sight."

I glare darkly at the floor and everyone else turns sharply to the White Wizard. I don't like this at all.

"The darkness is deepening."

Sure, as if the first statement wasn't ominous enough.

"If Sauron had the ring, we would know it." Aragorn, ever the optimist, states matter-of-factly.

"Well, it's only a matter of time." Gandalf says.

I make a face. "That's reassuring."

I'm ignored. Big surprise there.

"He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping." He informs us in an almost menacing tone that makes me want to stand up and smack him.

"Let him stay there. Let him rot!"Gimli growls from his seat on the throne, puffing soundly on his pipe. "Why should we care?"

Can I just say that as much as I love Gimli, I hate his damn pipe. Truly I do. The stench is effing unbearable.

"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." He tells Gimli, almost patronizingly. "I've sent him to his death."

I look at Aragorn, who is standing a little to my left. One hand is stroking his beard, grey eyes clouded over in thought. I can almost see the wheels turning in his heroic head.

"No," he says suddenly. "There's still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

Bingo! We have a winner!

"How?" Boromir and Gimli ask, simultaneously.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands; then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate." There is a gleam in his eyes that I've never seen before.

I don't know if I should be giddy with joy because this is a fangirl's dream or run for the hills because this is suicide to the tenth degree.

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms." Eomer puts in.

Gee, thanks for stating the obvious.

"Not for ourselves," Aragorn agrees. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us; keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion." This from Legolas.

Again with the obvious. 

Ugh.

"Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for?" Gimli demands.

I should hit them all on the head.

"Sauron will suspect a trap." Gandalf points out, and I agree with him. Knowledge of the future or none, who knows what damage I've wreaked on the grand design of this universe? "He will not take the bait."

Aragorn let's loose a small, sly grin.

Good grief, what is he planning?

"Oh, I think he will."

Now that the bravado has faded away, I take a chance to mutter into my breakfast.

"Suicide is the effing plan. Fucking fantabulous."

Yes, that was said loudly.

Yes, Aragorn is glaring.

"I did not say that it was a plan where we would emerge victorious, Samantha." He says, and I can hear the disapproval from his tone. I don't even have to look at him. "We seek not to defeat Mordor, only give Frodo—"

I cut him off.

What? Don't look at me like that, it's rude. I've just been ripped away from a proper bed and the chance to get a decent amount of sleep; I'm allowed to be bitchy.

"I never said it wasn't a good plan." I tell him. "How can I, when it's the only effing plan we've got? I realize that the whole point of this entire war is so we can destroy that blasted ring and I'm all for it. I love Frodo to death, thanks, but it doesn't change the fact that this whole thing?"

I make a circular motion with my hand, encompassing everyone in the room. "It's suicide. And this may just be the sleep deprivation talking but I don't really feel like dying at nineteen years old, and two weeks away from my birthday."

With that, I give him a hundred-watt smile and saunter out of the room.

Now for sleep.

**OoO**

Well, I'm glad to say that I'm functioning properly again.

Sleep really does wonders for the body.

Of course, Maia's awesome skills aren't half bad either.

Maia, my maid who is about three years older than me. Yes, the one who draws the divine baths and takes such good care of me I'm going to become a spoiled little brat in a matter of months.

I love her already.

Now I am up to my elbows in food as I pack supplies for the departure to Mordor at dawn. I'm sure you can hear the groans all the way to the Shire. Why, I ask you, does it always have to be dawn? Why not, midmorning, or noon, or some _other_ time of the day when it's not completely _unholy_ to get up?

The door to the pantry creaks open and I turn around to see Legolas. I give him a bleak smile and return to the task of stuffing loaves of bread into a bag.

"You do not have to come, you know." He tells me quietly as he helps me pack. I roll my eyes at him. Boromir probably put him up to this, that oaf.

"This conversation has happened before." I tell him shortly. "Multiple times, in fact. You should all get a clue and realize that I'm not staying put."

"That does not change the fact that you are better off staying here. You're place is not on a battlefield. You should stay here, where it's safe, where you're less likely to get hurt."

I grab and apple and shove it into a bag and breathe in deep.

Now is really not the time to blow up.

Calm, Sam, calm.

"I fought at Amon Hen, I fought the Wargs, I fought at Helm's Deep, I fought at Cormallen and I _will_ fight tomorrow." I tell him angrily, my tone leaving no room for argument. "You lot are just going to have to live with that. This girl isn't going to get left behind."

I give him one last piercing glare before turning on my heel and walking out of the room.

**OoO**

**-Legolas-**

Well, that went rather well. Me and my stupid mouth.

I should learn to control my emotions when I'm with her.

I walk out of the pantry and massage my forehead wearily when I fail to find her. She is much faster than she gives herself credit for.

"Fantastic." I cannot help but mutter under my breath as I not as much as walk, but stalk to the dining hall. Boromir and Gimli are sitting in a corner, arguing about the virtues of ale on the battlefield and I sit down beside them.

She is not here either.

I believe, 'bollocks' is an entirely appropriate word for me to use.

**-Boromir-**

Legolas sits down beside us, an irritated look upon his face and Gimli and I pause our conversation and turn to him.

"What's eatin' you, lad?" Gimli asks, adopting a phrase my sister often uses. It is strange how easily we have adopted her strange mannerisms. Stranger still, how we are so concerned about each other's well-being.

"Sam is angry." He tells us.

I crack a grin. "She is always angry about something," I tell him comfortingly. "You should know by now never to take it to heart."

He shakes his head. 

"Nay, she is angry with _me_." He says.

I look disbelievingly at him. Forgive me, but I find it dubious that my sister could ever be angry at the elf. I've witnessed it numerous times. She melts like butter when it comes to him.

"I was not thinking, and spoke some harsh words." He runs a hand through his hair. "Have either of you seen her, my lords? I need to rectify this mess."

Gimli and I shake our heads.

"The lass will get over it, whatever it was." Gimli told Legolas in a pacifying tone. "It's nothing to lose sleep about."

Legolas sighs and stands up.

"I _will_ be losing sleep over it, to be sure master dwarf. I would much prefer it if we march off to war without her being mad at me." The elf tells us, shaking his head.

I suggest that he find Maia, Sam's lady-in-waiting and the dwarf and I watch calmly as he walks off.

"Is he completely oblivious to the fact that he _would_ lose sleep over her, even if she weren't pissed at him?" I ask, shooting an amused grin at Gimli. The dwarf laughs and nods in agreement before continuing on his tangent.

Oh, such blind fools.

**A/n: Better than the short crap I've been giving you for the last couple of weeks eh? Hope you liked it, and now I really must say this again. Review.**

**Seriously.**

**Otherwise, you ain't getting' no new chapter.**


	27. Toxicity

A/N: olook, an update! 

Chapter 27: Toxicity

**-Sam-**

"Problem, little one?" a voice inquires from behind me. I let out a huff of consternation and resist the urge to flip the bird, instead opting to turn around and face the speaker.

It turns out to be Haldir. And with my luck, he'll be followed by the twins in ten seconds flat and then they'll all be all wise and all-knowing and generally just make me want to break something.

"No." I practically snarl, because we all know I'm such a pleasant individual. "Everything's peachy keen. So peachy keen, in fact, that I feel like shitting rainbows and butterflies."

Hal gives a rather perturbed smile and I roll my eyes smugly.

Yes, this can be achieved.

"Would you mind telling me then," he says. "Why you are sitting outside, on your own and looking like Mumakil just killed your favorite horse."

I glare at him. "You better hope that nothing like that happened to Charcoal, Hal or I will shave all your hair off."

He smiles at me, quite pleased. I think he may have just been trying to get a rise out of me. I make a face and flip him the bird.

What?

I just had a fight with a Poncy Elvish Princeling that I care for far too much than I'm willing to admit, even to myself, I think it's perfectly within my rights to be bitchy.

"So what is it then?" he prompts, looking expectantly at me. Of course, I do the most logical thing and evade the issue, instead choosing to tell him to bug off and leave me alone.

Of course it didn't work. And worse, he's brought reinforcements.

"Legolas has been looking for you everywhere, Sam." Elladan informs me as he practically bounds over to us. I do not understand where the boundless energy comes from, and believe me I've tried to figure it out. Elladan is just…bionic. Sometimes, Elves really do frighten me.

"So?" I say in a would-be offhand voice that comes out too sharply to be convincing. All three elves raise their eyebrows at me.

"Did you perhaps have a fight?" Elrohir slides in. I start glaring again, because let's face it that's all I _can_ do. It's not like they're going to let me leave, and even if I tried it would be pointless since they'd probably be able to tie me in place in less than a minute.

I'm sorry, but being surrounded by three really skilled elven warriors with infinitely more knowledge and experience than you have or will ever have, when all you want is to be alone is totally not a good time to be human.

"Maybe." I grumble in answer, folding my arms across my chest and sitting sullenly on a rock. I realize that maybe, just maybe, I am overreacting. "Now go away. Go find _him_ and cajole information, if you so terribly want it. I don't want to talk."

Convinced that I wasn't in the mood to gab about my woes, the three elves shake their heads and start walking away, Hal patting me on the head comfortingly as he left.

What am I, a child? A puppy? Geez, way to make a girl feel loved.

But seriously, ever since the start of this whole field trip from hell, I've constantly had to prove myself and deal with the incessant jibes about my gender. As if being a woman really means that you can't wield a sword.

Psh.

Seriously, how utterly absurd is that? Sure we may need lighter arms, but if they're not there it doesn't mean we'll ask for them. I've brought down a lot of opponents and I'm still walking, right? Think about all the mothers whose children's lives are on the line, here. Does anybody here have any idea what a mother's love is capable of?

Clearly, these men need to rediscover their X chromosome. Every man has it, you know, which makes everyone half-female.

And still they say women are the weaker sex.

There is definitely no justice in the world. None.

I may have gotten off-base here, but only a little bit. What pisses me off the most, aside from the fact that the world is absolutely not fair, is that Legolas, who has always been the most supportive and unprejudiced of the whole lot, basically told me that I should stay at home like a good little girl because I get into nothing but trouble on the battlefield, all because my brother asked him to.

I mean, really.

It's a battlefield, that's practically the whole point of it, is trouble! And sure, I may end up beaten, bloody and scarred after most battles but I should think the fact that I brought down a hell of a lot of my opponents should mean something. We can't all be perfect elves with perfect hair and perfect faces and perfect aim, sorry to say.

Not to mention I saved Boromir and Haldir. That should count for something, right?

**OoO**

It's dark when I finally decide to abandon my hiding place (a large rock behind a rather dense clump of trees) and go back inside. I sneak back into the pantry, sticking my head in to make sure that no one unpleasant was inside and go back to my interrupted packing.

I shove a few more loaves of bread into a bag and pile up the skins to take to the stream and gather water, when the door creaks open and my brother steps in.

"Sam," Boromir says in surprise when he notices me. "Have you been here all day?"

I shake my head, no. "I've just gotten back in. Why?"

"We've been looking for you all day, little sister." He informs me. "Legolas said you had an argument?"

He would know, having put the blasted elf up to the task.

"Look Boromir," I begin in an annoyed voice. "I thought you were over your chauvinistic crap but obviously I was wrong. Now, if you don't want me to go tomorrow, say it to my face yourself, don't make Legolas do it for you because…"

I trail off, glaring at him through shining eyes, my hands balled into fists at my side.

"Because?" he continues, softly.

"Because I don't like it." I squeak. "I don't like it; it's hurtful and confusing and unpleasant and you shouldn't have done it. Because, because I am going tomorrow whether you like it or not."

"I know that, Samantha." He informs me. "And I did not ask the elf to convince you to stay. I tried it once and you nearly bit my head off, do you recall? I learn from my mistakes. You are coming tomorrow, and all I can do is ensure that you return home alive."

I frown at him, truly confused. If he didn't put Legolas up to it then why did he do it?

"If you didn't—then why would he--?" I ask, spluttering.

Boromir shrugs and plants a kiss on my cheek. "Perhaps you should ask him yourself, little sister."

That's helpful, thanks Boromir. Thanks a whole bloody lot.

**OoO**

So, trying to figure out the logic behind the actions of hundreds-of-years-older-than-you beings? Really freaking frustrating.

It is one thing if the one person who has supported you through the whole chauvinistic thing tells you to stay home because you're a woman on account of your brother and it is completely another if he does it of his own accord.

When I find him, I may just have to punch him.

A soft thump announces the presence of an individual beside me in the library. I look up to find piercing blue eyes and my face automatically contorts into a glare.

"Go away." I tell him.

And yes, it's Legolas.

"Sam," he says, sighing heavily. "I wish to apologize."

I turn away from him and shift my attention to the book lying open on the table in front of me. I have no idea what it means, seeing as it's written completely in elvish.

The pictures are pretty though.

I know, I know. Pathetic.

"I'm reading, Legolas." I inform him tritely. "Bugger off."

He clears his throat awkwardly. "You wish to become a manure facilitator?"

The best thing to have done probably would have been to smoothly talk myself out of the hole I'd dug for myself, and not, you know, choke on my own spit.

Just a thought.

Legolas however, takes this chance to reach for my hand, thereby preventing me from attempting an impromptu exit. "I am sorry, Sam. I know I said some hurtful things, earlier but I did not mean them."

"So why'd you say them?" I counter, after trying to stare him down.

Obviously, it didn't work. He's good at the staring game, Legolas is.

"Because Samantha, none of us like seeing you hurt, and this is inevitable in battle. You are passionate and you want to fight, but you are young and you have witnessed too much already."

"That's really not for you to decide, Legolas." I snap at him. "I'm a big girl and I make my own choices. I don't see Aragorn going around trying to change my mind, why should you? Shouldn't it be a good thing that I'm there, to help fight for the people?"

"That is precisely the point, Samantha!" He snarls. I feel myself flinch, just a bit, as he fixes his blue eyes on me, and no he is so not happy. "These are not your people."

I yank my hand from his grasp, feeling like I'd been slapped. "They might as well be." I inform him, standing up. "Thanks for the apology, Legolas. You've raised the bar. Next time someone apologizes to me they have to think of a cleverer way of making me feel like shit."

And with that, I walk away from him, fully intent on running back to my room and screaming into my pillow from sheer frustration.

Of course, things never work out the way I want them to, as exhibited by the hand suddenly attached to my arm, and the Elf Prince who is suddenly blocking my way.

"I'm sorry." He says, sincerely. "Hate me if you wish but the only reason I do not want you on the battlefields is because you mean more to me than you know, and I do not want to see harm come to you."

I open my mouth to point out that he doesn't know this for sure but he holds up a hand to cut me off.

"It is inevitable, Sam." He tells me, effectively shooting down my argument. "There is a large chance that those who march off tomorrow will not return, and I simply do not wish for you to be part of it."

No, my heart did not just skip a beat.

Shut up.

"I'd rather be out there fighting, Legolas." I tell him, softly. "I don't want to be the one to hear that all my friends died in battle. Not going to happen. We're all in this together."

He sighs, a world-weary sound, and I look sadly at him as he lets go of my hand and turns away.

"I understand. Good night, my lady." he gives me a slight bow and walks up the stairs with the air of someone who'd just suffered a horrendous defeat.

At the bottom of the stairs, I look after his retreating figure my hands balled into fists because even though he's the one in the wrong, I still feel horrible for making him so sad.

I sort of want to throw my dagger at him.

Now, did he just say I meant more to him than I knew?

Better make that _two_ daggers.

Ai.

**OoO**

True to form, the company rides out of Gondor at the crack of dawn. I managed to get through it with minimal mishaps and maximum yawns.

I blame Legolas. If he hadn't started this whole thing, I'd probably have gotten a good ten hours last night as opposed to my dismal 4.

When this is over, I am so spending a week with Tom Bombadil and Goldberry.

No arguments.

The soldiers are silent as we march across the land; Aragorn is staring into the horizon, looking deep in thought. The twins and Hal ride beside him, the blond march warden staring blankly at the road in front of them, while the twins attempt to poke his side with a stick. I roll my eyes at this childish display but cannot prevent the smile that creeps across my face.

Bloody Elves.

I hear Faramir whispering a prayer under his breath as his horse trots down beside me. I look over to him and feel my lips twitching in response to his smile.

"Valar help us." He says, softly. I wink at him and bring my horse closer, which is a difficult thing because this new horse is an effing hussy, and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"I've got your back, brotha." I tell him in to most flippant way possible.

Up ahead, the sky darkens. Things are starting to heat up.

Oh, joy.

**A/n: 'kay, yes this is just a filler chapter. The battle for middle earth is up in the next chapter! It'll probably be up next week if I'm not lazy. You know what WON'T make me lazy? Reviews! So, uh. Get a clue.**

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	28. What's another word for ominous?

Don't people say that the waiting is always the worst part of anything

**A/N: yoohoo, it's an update! No more false promises. I'm seeing this through.**

**Chapter 28: what's another word for 'ominous'?**

**-Sam-**

Don't people say that the waiting is always the worst part of anything?

Well…I've come to find that it's true and I am not at all happy about it. We're about three days away from Mordor, according to Boromir, but I can't really tell. The days and nights have started to bleed into each other as we progressed. The smell of industry, otherwise known as smoke and other noxious fumes, constantly wafted under our nostrils and it's taking all my will-power not to be sick on the spot.

I'm telling you, Sauron has issues.

D'you think maybe he was dropped on his head as a child? Or maybe he didn't get enough chocolates?

Lack of chocolates would definitely make me a monumental bitch, I gotta say.

I hum 'Stairway to Heaven' under my breath as I made my way to the cook to offer my services. We've set up camp for the night (well, at least, we all _think_ its night) and I'm absolutely bored off my ass.

I wave to my brothers who are both sitting by the fire, an apple clutched in each of their hands as they conversed in earnest, dark heads put together, lips moving too fast for me to even try to decipher. Boromir throws a glance at me, but not out of greeting…more like I'm the topic of discussion.

Knowing Boromir, I probably _am_ the topic of discussion and whatever they're talking about, I'm not going to like it.

That's Boromir for you, though, Mr. Overprotective Brother in all his authoritarian glory.

I pull a face at him before walking away, shaking my head.

A large pot is set atop a blazing fire in the clearing where the meals are being prepared and I approach it cheerfully, grabbing a ladle from Erothon and taking a sip of the stew.

Huh, needs pepper.

I grab the pepper grinder and twist a few rounds of pepper into the stew and stir. He's glaring at me now and I grin flippantly at him.

"You," he says coming over to me and hitting me gently on the head with a wooden spoon. "You really need to stop meddling in my cooking."

He has a smile on his face so whatever menacing effect those words might have had on me are gone.

And trust me, Erothon is plenty menacing when he wants to be.

Let me give you a picture of what Erothon is like. He's around thirty, I suppose, with fluffy, ginger hair and a matching beard. He's been working in the Gondor kitchens for fifteen years and he's in love with tomatoes and apple cider. He carries a flask around, everywhere, and a matching sword with engravings of kitchen utensils.

He's also the largest man I have ever seen in my entire life. Think Hagrid only downscaled.

Even then, by only a little bit.

And his laughter? No other word for it but boisterous, and his sense of humor is wonderful.

All in all, he's my kind of guy.

Which is why I've taken to hanging around him when mealtimes draw near and then messing with his cooking.

The first time I did, I put coriander in the meat he was about to roast and he nearly had my blood.

Until, of course he tasted it and found that the roast beef actually tasted better with the coriander. Then he hugged me, or maybe the better term is crushed? And it was like I'd found a new father.

I think it's because I'm so awesome.

Shush, I need the ego-boost.

"Stop meddling in your cooking?" I echo reaching for a stack of bowls and tapping the side of the pot with a wooden spoon, the signal that dinner is ready. "Now, why would I do that when I know it's the only thing the gives color to your bleak existence?"

He lets out a rich laugh and ruffles my hair. "You're a cheeky little blighter, are you not? Wherever did Lord Boromir find you?"

I make a face at him and start serving the stew as the men line up.

I smile; three days on the clock, dolls. I'm determined to have reason to smile while I still can.

OoO

Oh look, it's a star!

Yes, I realize that that just made me a very obvious city girl, but shut up, it is totally a big deal to see a star these days, especially given our current location.

"Wow." I breathe, sitting back and pulling my knees to my chest. It's a single, lonely star but I don't care. The way it twinkles, so brightly against the inky black sky, well…it gives me hope.

And let's face it lovies, I and all the people here, we need all the hope we can get.

"It is beautiful isn't it?" a voice says softly beside me.

Oh feck, I recognize that voice. Don't look Sam, don't look, don't look, and don't lo — oh crap.

Why, oh why, am I so crappy at keeping mantras?

Other people do it! I mean, look at those Tibetan Monks! Why can't I do it?

"You still refuse to speak to me, then?" he asks with a heavy sigh. If he didn't sound so sad, I'd have the gall to smirk.

Well…at least he knows.

And stop looking at me like that. It's perfectly within my rights to give Legolas the cold shoulder after all that crap he said to me. I mean that thing about the people of Arda not being my people? That hurt. Who is he to tell me who I should and should not consider my people? I fought at Helm's Deep and Cormallen because I refused to sit down and wait as more children like Sheli lost their parents. I fought because I _cared_.

I'm not going anywhere, ladies and gents. Middle Earth is where I'll be until my dying breath. So everyone I see, everyone I meet, they're more than just fictional characters in my favorite book. They're _real_.

So basically, eff off Legolas.

And no, I am not at all taking into account the fact that he said I meant more to him than he knew.

Elves are fucking migraines.

OoO

**-Legolas-**

"Samantha, speak to me." I say after an entire half hour of stony silence. I am not used to her silence. Especially since I have never known her to shut up for more than ten minutes at a time.

She crosses her arms and stares at Eärendil, shining brightly in the sky, a lone figure in the face of the seemingly insurmountable odds of the darkness surrounding it.

"I will not." She snaps.

"Why ever not?" I ask, running a hand through my hair in frustration and relief.

At the very least, she is saying something.

She glares at the ground for a moment before finally turning to me, shoulders sagging and a defeated look in her eyes.

"Because _you_ are a jerk." She says.

I look at her in confusion. A jerk? I?

"You're a jerk for implying that I have no right to be here, fighting, just because I wasn't born here. You're a jerk for implying that my place is back in Minas Tirith and most of all, you're a jerk for even _trying_ to talk me out of going."

Ah, of course. I know I should never have tried to convince her to stay with the women and children, but like her brother before her, I simply had to _try_.

"Wasn't it you who said that 'it does not bode well to trifle with a fiery woman such as myself'? What changed?" she adds, suddenly as I think of a reply.

"I will not lose you, Samantha." I say, my voice is soft because Valar knows what Haldir and the twins will say when they hear, but firm. I look at her in earnest and she stares back, a coldness seeping into her bright eyes.

"You know what's funny, Legolas?" she asks me, her voice sad. I do not believe this shall be amusing in the least. "I think you already have."

And with that she stands up and walks into her tent.

Ai Elbereth, what have I done?

OoO

**-Sam-**

And we're travelling again.

Joy of all joys.

"Have you been getting any sleep, sister?" Boromir asks, reaching for my face.

I glare at him and nod my head vehemently.

I'm lying, why yes, I am.

"Of course I have." I tell him forcefully. "What the hell made you ask that?"

I hear a cough from behind me and turn around to see Faramir.

Fantastic.

They're going to tag-team on me.

"Perhaps the dark circles beneath your eyes are what drew his attention, Sam." He tells me nonchalantly. "Or the fact that your current state makes a dragon look sweet."

See what I mean?

Bloody brothers.

"I'm _fine_." And it's true.

I totally didn't stay up all night overanalyzing my conversation with Legolas.

You know, sometimes, I really, really do hate that bloody elf.

There is a ruckus from the front of the line, and all our heads snap up to attention.

"What's happening?" I ask Boromir urgently. "Are we being attacked?"

Boromir shakes his head at me and jerks a thumb towards the noise and we quickly make our way towards it.

Oh, oh no.

They're leaving. A quarter of the army is leaving.

I feel like tearing my hair out.

Aragorn is telling them to go ahead and leave, like it's no big deal and we're not going to die if we're fucking outnumbered.

Which we are.

Outnumbered, ten to one and more, I mean.

I tug on my hair in exasperation as they march away. This is just fucking fantastic.

I know Aragorn is just being kind, and just and democratic but geez.

"Fabulous." I snarl, climbing back onto my horse and tugging irritably at the reins.

I know that I shouldn't be so miffed, considering the fact that I knew that this was going to happen, but come on. A little support would be nice. As if this suicide mission wasn't bleak enough.

Ugh.

OoO

Oh my giddy aunt, we're here!

The Black Gate loom upwards and my eyes graze over it. It is dark, and menacing and metal and all the words that 'ominous' is synonymous with.

Whoo boy.

"Where are they?" Pippin asks from atop a high horse.

No, I am not speaking figuratively since he's riding with Gandalf and Gandalf is on Shadowfax.

Didn't make sense?

Oh well.

Brego lets out a grunt as Aragorn spurs him forward, the banner that the twins brought with them from Arwen shining proudly in the sunlight.

Yay, The King!

Gandalf follows him, along with Eomer, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Faramir, Eowyn, Haldir, the twins, Pippin and Merry.

Basically all the head honchos and important people.

"Coming, Sam?" Boromir asks me, turning around and raising an eyebrow at me.

Heh, and me, I suppose.

Beats me why I'm not back in the ranks with the rest of the troops.

Aragorn is at the head of the column, of course, and he takes a deep breath before addressing the Black Gate. "Let the lord of the Black Lands, come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

We wait.

A heartbeat passes, and then two and finally the gate creaks open. Dust flies towards us and I squint to avoid getting sand in my eyes. Behind the veil of grime, I can make out a lone rider and mentally prepare myself for the sight.

"What in the name of Arda is _that_?" I hear Eowyn gasp in horror.

I really don't want to look up, but the nerd in me is compelled to do so.

Ugh.

_That_ is disgusting. Mordor seriously needs to improve its dental care.

Seriously.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome. Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat with me?" the Mouth asks pleasantly.

I look around to see Aragorn staring disdainfully at it.

You have no idea how priceless his expression is. I am, in fact, carefully filing it away in my head to draw at a later date.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed." Gandalf snaps indignantly. And you know no one can do indignant like Whitey. "Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

The Mouth of Sauron twists his head. There _must_ be a pair of eyes hidden in that helmet somewhere, but it gives me the creeps just trying to figure out where. "Old Greybeard, I have a token I was bidden to show thee."

He hold's up Frodo's Mithril shirt and I feel my heart dropping. I bare my teeth and let out a snarl. "Bastard."

From nearer up front, I hear Pippin's cry of, "Frodo!"

"Silence." Gandalf snaps, and for once, I agree with him. We can't let this…thing know that they're getting to us.

"No!" Merry cries bitterly. I resist the urge to shush him.

"Silence!" Gandalf shouts again and everyone quiets.

"The Halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain?" the Mouth asked wickedly. "And he did, Gandalf. He did."

Son of a bitch.

You'll get what's yours, you'll see.

"Lies." Boromir snarls under his breath. "He lies."

"Of course he lies." I hiss at him.

Aragorn is sidling casually up to him, the expression of disgust still on his face.

"And who is this?" it asks, tilting its head at Aragorn like a macabre marionette. "Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade."

With a sharp swing, Aragorn slices the Mouth of Sauron's head off and I fail to suppress a harsh laugh.

Hal quickly turns around to look at me and I shrug. "Bastard had it coming."

"I guess that concludes negotiations." Gimli states nonchalantly and that actually makes me laugh.

Man, I love that dwarf.

Aragorn turns towards us; Anduril raised high and a fire burning in his eyes. A glare is creasing his brow and he looks at us as if daring us to believe the lies the Mouth had spouted. "I do not believe it." He said forcefully. "I will not."

Oh gickey, it's The King!

Sorry, but I feel the need to constantly state that fact.

The Black Gate creaks open again.

I think I hear an ominous orchestra piece.

Barad-dûr looms darkly in the distance, the great, orange, lidless eye of the Dark Lord, fixed upon His Reluctant Highness.

Oh my stars.

"Pull back! Pull back!" Aragorn commands.

We don't have to be told twice.

OoO

I can practically taste the fear of the men around me.

The clanking of armor is overwhelming as the men twitch and jitter. I rub my temples wearily and roll my neck.

"Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan!" Aragorn calls out, riding back and forth from one end of the line to the next. "My brothers! I see in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of _me_. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship, but it _is not this day_!"

I can feel my heart thumping inside my chest and a grin is threatening to engulf my face. I don't know how to explain it, but I am so fucking _proud_.

Of him, yes, just in case that wasn't clear.

And a little bit of myself too, because I'm actually standing here today.

Alive.

"An hour of Wolves and shattered shields, when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it _is not this day_! This day, we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

We all draw our swords and I realize with a jerk that _this_, this is my King. This is the guy that's going to unify the Free Kingdoms of Men and bring about Arda's Golden Age.

Elessar Telcontar, man.

This is mind-blowing.

"I never thought I'd die fighting side-by-side with an Elf." Gimli grumbles beside me and I laugh and shake my head.

"How about fighting side by side with a friend?" Legolas asks with a smile.

"Aye." Gimli says, nodding. "Aye, I can do that."

I'll say it again, folks.

Men.

Ugh.

Up front, Aragorn has started walking towards the army of Orcs. He looks back, surveys his comrades and says serenely, "For Frodo."

Merry and Pippin are right behind him as he charges.

For Frodo. For Samwise. For all the people of Middle Earth.

I raise my sword and let out a cry.

Let the battle begin.

**A/N: Shut up, I am not putting off the battle.. right, I am. But only because battle scenes are tricky to write. And yes, you read right. I'm going to follow through and finish this even if it kills me, which it won't because I love Sam and I love writing her. So yeah, you know the drill.**

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Kinz: Your review made my heart swell. I'm a major feedback whore, and the fact that you broke out of your lurker routine and reviewed, as well as the fact that you finished this entire craptastic work in two hours earns you brownie points by the thousand. Any requests for the next chapter?

Piklejuice: Well, as you can see, I sort of pushed the Battle of Middle Earth again but it _is_ coming. : Enjoy!

Dragon260: You know, I've been asking myself the same question.

SerenityAlways: hee thank you! They basically have you to thank because your review is what kick-started my writing again. So, yay you!


	29. Reality Bites

A/N: YAY, ALMOST ON TIME.

**Chapter 29: Reality bites**

And just like that we're surrounded on all sides by Orcs.

Left, right and center, I tell you.

It's ridiculous the way they outnumber us fifteen-to-one.

No, I'm not even kidding. I wish I was exaggerating but that's the way it goes.

There is blood and screams and snarls and altogether I feel like I'm in some sort of carnal zoo but I ignore it as I step back into my rhythm and hack apart the beasties.

Isn't this fun?

Yes, that was sarcasm.

"Pity, pity, to kill the pretty." One orc says in a sing-song voice that makes my hair stand on end. He bares his yellowed teeth at me in what seems to be a semblance of a grin and licks his lips.

_Oh God_.

Why do I always get the psycho baddies? _Why_?

Is it not enough that I'm the only one who seems to get seriously hurt around here? Well, okay, maybe that's a bit unreasonable since there are plenty of other soldiers that get hurt, and even worse, die, apart from me but the point is, in my little group? I'm the most vulnerable.

Which sucks ass, if you ask me.

The orc charges at me, scimitar raised high and a high-pitched squeal practically killing my ear drums and I take a swing and cut his head off.

"Noisy bugger." I grumble as I brain one and slash another in the throat. Found my rhythm again, ladies.

Spin, chop, hack, and try not to get killed.

Is it bad that in the few days that elapsed since I was last in a battle, I actually _missed_ this?

Huh.

I guess the war really does get to you. I'd hate to imagine what I'd do when this is all over.

Actually, if I'm being completely honest, I'm trying not to imagine the aftermath at all, as it cannot be good for my already fragile psyche.

Another nasty orc lunges at me, weaponless but its mouth is open in an attempt to bite off my flesh. I duck and roll away from it before throwing a dagger deftly, oh yes I am deft now, at its skull.

Point for me, yay!

…

Oh, my God.

The Nazgul are here.

I think I just wet my pants.

Shut up, they're so creepy it makes me want to cry.

This does not bode well.

…

From somewhere to the North I can hear cries of "Imladris!" and "Lasgalen!"

Considering the amount of orc damage in that particular region, I guess it's safe to say that that's the Twins and Legolas.

There is a loud grunt and a heavy thump from behind me and I turn around to see Baerlad, one of the Rangers from the Pirate ships that had been assigned to help me in the kitchen, and a very large, very smelly, orc behind me.

"Watch your back, my Lady." He says, stabbing another orc behind me in the eye as if for emphasis.

I grin flippantly at him and nod.

"Will do, buckaroo." I say pleasantly as I cut off an orc's arm.

He looks at me like I'm insane and I blow him a kiss.

Hey, I am crazy so it's all good.

OoO

All in all, we do a good job covering each other's asses, Baerlad and I.

Until of course the hobbits start screaming, "The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming."

Then I feel compelled to look up and sure enough, there they are. Gwaihir and all the big-ass eagles are in the sky, attacking the Nazgul for us.

It is wicked cool, let me tell you that.

Until I got scalped by an Uruk.

Bitchy cretins, they are.

OoO

The next sequence of events happened so fast I can barely wrap my head around it.

One minute I was listening to the hobbits cheering for the Eagles and the next I'm clamping my hands over my ears as an ear-splitting screech echoes from the heights of Barad-dûr, stopping everyone—orc and human alike in their tracks, as the Eye of Sauron collapsed upon itself.

It was…fascinating to say the least. It was, possibly, ten times more awesome to look at than the effects of the movie and the relief and elation that swept through the Army of the West was so strong it was almost palpable.

Then…screams. The enemy was retreating, their Master was gone. The army of the West was cheering.

"Frodo! Frodo lives!" the fellowship cried jubilantly. I may have been guilty of starting this, along with several punches to the air.

What? It was a happy occasion.

I was prepared to throw down my sword and dance insanely until Mount Doom decided to take a page out of Krakatoa's book and exploded.

The looks on the fellowship's faces when they saw…dear Lord, it broke my heart ten times over. My own tears may have spilled but that's irrelevant.

The fact that I made a rather desperate move towards the mountain and had to be stopped by Legolas? Yeah, that's irrelevant too.

He pulled me backwards, just as the fields of Gorgoroth gave way, taking most of Sauron's army with it.

I remember struggling against him, crying, "No, let _go_! _Frodo and Samwise_!"

I remember him snarling, (Yes, snarling. It was vaguely attractive.) "Gandalf and Gwaihir are on their way."

And sure enough, when I looked to the skies, there they were. Problem solved.

It's over ladies and gents; The War of the Ring.

Bust out the history books and mark the date. The quest is finished.

OoO

It's a strange and highly disconcerting feeling, entering a city a hero. The same awkwardness I felt at Helm's Deep hadn't been eradicated as I stood there, crying women stumbling forward in their joy to thank me.

I shrank from the festivities and hid behind Legolas, who was nearest, thankful that he was so bloody tall and overshadowed me easily.

The frown on his face hasn't disappeared since after the battle.

He reaches out a hand and tugs me over to a stable and I reluctantly let him.

Not that I could have stopped him, given his current state of more-than-mild anger, but for all intents and purposes, I resisted.

"Are you hurt?" he demands, holding me at arms' length and examining me with his keen elf eyes.

I can feel myself coloring as I shake off his grip. "I'm _fine_, Legolas." I inform him curtly. "This wasn't my first battle."

He looks angrier at this and I decide that there's nothing better than adding fuel to the fire, like the spiteful bitch I am. "I'm still mad at you, you know." I inform him nonchalantly.

"I am aware of that, yes." He retorts, glaring darkly at the floor.

"So we're here, because…?" I trail off, raising an eyebrow in question. He lets out a huff of breath and starts pacing.

"I will not apologize," he began. I let out a snort and rolled my eyes. I'd figured as much, deep down. It was the same for every species, males and their fucking pride. I opened my mouth to say something but he held up his hand. "Let me finish, please. I will not apologize because I merely spoke the truth. These are not your people."

"Yes, they bloody are."

Couldn't resist, sorry.

"You consider them to be, but by all technicalities, they are not." He shot at me, and I glared up at him sullenly. Stupid logic. "I worry for you Samantha, perhaps more than anyone else in the Company."

Present tense.

Ugh.

He turned his eyes on me then, brilliant blue holding me captivated. I turned away and looked at the ground, wishing I had heat vision so I could burn a whole through his boot. That'd show him.

"Why's that?" I mumble softly.

I'm curious, so sue me.

"Because Samantha," he said gently, taking my chin in his hand and turning my face up to his. "You mean more to me than you know."

I frowned at him then, all memory of anger forgotten, confused. "You keep saying that, but how am I supposed to know what you're talking about?" I burst out. "I mean more to you how? Like a sister?"

I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. What if I was right? What if that was what he meant? It wouldn't be unexpected, but could I handle the tangible, irrevocable stroke of reality? Wouldn't it be better to just tell him now that everything was fine, that we were friends again and avoid him like the plague afterwards?

I mean, that's pretty much where it's headed, isn't it? That's the only reason he brought me here in the first place, is to ask forgiveness. He didn't even have to because I'm pretty sure I was overreacting that night in the black hills. I was tired and scared and being a bitch; he just caught me at a bad time.

If I heard the confirmation now, the gentle, sincere words that told me that '_of course_ I think of you as a sister, what on Arda did you think I meant?' I don't think I'd be able to handle it.

I gazed into his eyes and felt a lump forming in my throat. "Never mind," I tell him, jerking my face from his grasp and taking three steps backward. "I don't want to know. Just forget about it Legolas. I'm not mad anymore."

He stares at me, confusion etched clearly upon his handsome face and I make a bow. Wide and sweeping and paint a goofy smile on my face. "All is forgiven, my Lord."

And with that, I all but flee.

See, this is how things are going to happen, ladies and muffins. Legolas is forgiven, and he and I are friends again and we can go back to the way we were before the fight. He'll be caring and concerned and wise and elf-ly and I'll be the crazy, inane, human girl, same as always.

I'll avoid him like the plague and pretty soon, he'll leave. He'll go back to Fangorn with Gimli before settling in Ithilien to rebuild. I'll stay here in Minas Tirith, helping Boromir, or maybe even Elessar if he needs me. I'll probably visit Ithilien from time to time, since it's to be given to Faramir but I can worm my way out of that.

Shut up, I know how this sounds. I know I'm being cowardly and irrational. I know it's unbecoming for someone who just fought through the War of the Ring and lived, to be afraid that an elf might think of her as only a sister, but I'm sorry.

I can't do it. I'd rather stay ignorant, because ignorance is bliss.

Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, it's a freaking ocean.

Even if it weren't the case, even if by some impossible stretch of the imagination, he doesn't think of me as just a sister, it wouldn't work. He's an elf, I'm a human. We're not going to go Beren and Luthien on anyone.

It's highly unlikely, and besides, these kinds of unions are hardly common. And it would kill him in the end, wouldn't it? I die and he does too, out of grief. Like Arwen, when Aragorn kicks the bucket. Only, I'm not even Numenorean, so that makes my lifespan seem like a _second_ to him. Too little, too short, too soon.

It _is_ better this way, isn't it?

I'm rambling again, sorry.

OoO

I finally reach the seventh ring and I'm not surprised to see everyone there. Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir, all standing in a circle outside the front door.

"Oh look, it's the Elf Brigade." I say in what I hoped was a humorous tone. It wouldn't do for anyone to glimpse all the sadness beneath my façade.

"Elf Brigade?" Hal inquires about two seconds later. I give him a sweet smile in response and look straight ahead.

I will not look at Legolas, I will not look at Legolas, I will not look at Le—oh damn!

I looked, and he's staring at me expectantly with those blue eyes and by the Valar, what's my name again?

NO. No, Sam, you have to be strong.

"Where have you been?" Elladan asks me curiously. I shrug and twirl my fingers, pointing at the circles below me.

"Just around; I needed some alone time, to think about a few things." I walk past them and into the castle, nodding pleasantly to the few people I knew. Rangers and some soldiers of Rohan and Gondor, most of whom looked apprehensively at the retinue of Eldar that now tailed me. "Are they up yet?"

Legolas shakes his head, knowing who I was talking about at once. "Nay, but worry not, they are tired from their dark and toilsome journey, they need their rest."

"Of course." I answer calmly before turning to face them and bowing. "Well my Lords, it's been a pleasure but now I need me some sleep. Catch y'all later."

I bound up the stairs two at a time until I reach my room, where Maia is ready and waiting with fresh clothes and a bath. I hug her in gratitude and almost dance my way into the bathroom, leaving my cares behind me, even if it's only momentary.

A/N: Not like the usual, but I felt like an insight into Sam's brain was needed. Love me anyway?

SerenityAlways: Oh, you make my heart swell. Thank you, I love Sam too, she's very quirky and endearing. Btdubs, any requests?

Valinor's Twilight: Here y'are!

Kinz: And now, I dub thee 'Supreme Ruler of the Thesaurus'. Thank you for the vocab lesson, and for the praise. I actually find that amusing as well. I was waiting for mention to be made of the Nose of Sauron. Mainly because I like imagining how they'd have pulled that off.

KittyPersona: That I did. Hahaha. Hope you liked!

Demonic-Dragon-Eyed-Chick: Mine too. Enjoy!

XClaire BearX: Sam has a tendency to be irrational and over-the-top, so her reaction was typical. Hope you enjoyed bb!


	30. A toss coin theorem

**a/n: UPDATE. ON. TIME. YEAH!**

**Chapter 30: A toss-coin theorem.**

**-Sam-**

There's something wonderful to be said about sleeping in a real, proper bed that you call your own, for an uninterrupted period of time.

It hasn't happened since back in my world, so let me just wax on about it for a while, because this moment is rare and must be deeply savored.

No, I have not been in Boromir's wine stores.

Although, if I may say so, my brother has a horde that would make a connoisseur cry tears of joy.

If you must know, it's the whole feel of the city right now. Middle Earth is at peace; the Dark Lord is slain, his power broken and destroyed. There is no drug in existence that can get these people higher than they already are. It makes every little thing seem so brilliant and exhilarating.

I wouldn't be surprised if someone suddenly burst into song because they got to eat some fresh butter. Seriously, it's _that_ happy.

Actually it's not happy, it's _euphoric_.

Speaking of butter, I'm famished. Sleeping for forty-two hours straight really does something to your appetite.

I crawl out of bed, dragging the soft downy blanket with me and wrapping it around my shoulders. The curtains are pushed back and the window has been thrown open so I know that Maia has been in here, probably to try and wake me.

I move towards the door to take a peek in the corridor when it is thrown open by two very excited hobbits.

If you guessed Merry and Pippin, ding, ding, ding, you get a prize!

"THEY'RE AWAKE!"

And with that declaration, all thoughts of food have fled my mind and I'm running helter-skelter after the two Halflings, nightgown, blankets and all.

I follow them into a somber hallway where the first thing that greets my vision is a round head of curly golden hair and the slightly abashed smile of Samwise Gamgee.

"Sam!" I cry, flinging myself at him and squeezing him tight. Not to go spectacularly girly on anyone, but by Elbereth I am beside myself with joy.

"Begging your pardon Miss Samantha," Sam manages to wheeze as I attempt to kill him with my hugs. "But you're in naught but your nightie."

I laugh uproariously, and if by chance the rowdier half of the hobbit brigade were joshing when they said both of their friends were awake, there's no chance in hell Frodo's still sleeping now.

"Shut up, Samwise."

He grins at me then, and hand in hand we make our way to the ringbearer who, if I may say so myself, is looking spiffing.

A little gray at the edges but absolutely spiffing, besides.

**OoO**

You know what's cool? Hearing stories.

It is half-past noon and I'm still here in Frodo's room with Merry, Pippin and Sam. We're all piled onto the humongous bed, and there is food all around.

I bite into a slice of apple pie and give a content sigh. Pippin lays his head on my lap and starts munching on a sticky bun.

"I feel like something's missing." I blandly inform my companions. There is a feeling of peace over all of us, like we're in a sleepy stupor.

"You mean the Tall, Manly members of the Fellowship?" Frodo asks sleepily, propped up on pillows and digging into a bowl of porridge.

"Something to that effect yes." I muttered in answer before stretching out and yawning. "I have to say, this is the sleepiest breakfast I've ever been to."

"Allow me to liven it up, then." Pippin offered. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"And what, pray tell, Master Took, are you going to do?" I ask suspiciously.

"Nothing that'll get us into trouble, I hope." Samwise muttered into his bread and butter.

Pippin eyed us with an indignant stare, and shook a comical fist at us. "You old ninny-hammers are of no fun at all! Why, the mere thought of Peregrin Took committing an act of mischief! I am a Guard of the Citadel, I'll have you know."

"Old?" I snorted, shoving another bun in his face. "Speak for yourself, I'll have you know, I'm just about to turn twenty. And Guard of the Citadel my bum, Pip. Merry here is a squire of Rohan now, and yet I distinctly remember him helping me play a prank on Eomer with the Twin doofs."

"You wound me greatly, my Lady." Pippin said, feigning pain and putting a hand over his heart as Merry gave me a swift kick.

"I'm sure you'll live."

"Alright, that's enough out of you two." Frodo intervenes with an amused smile.

I make a face and give a salute. "Aye, aye El Capitan."

**OoO**

I end up spending half the day with the hobbits, just talking and laughing and at one point smooshing a cake into Frodo's face for insinuating well—something. Mostly I think I was just bored and his face was the only clean one left.

I haven't had this much fun in ages. Mainly because of the war, and I don't begrudge anything, it's just weird to feel so carefree. I keep thinking that I should watch my back, which is silly, because there's nothing to watch for anymore. The threat is gone, everyone's safe.

I make my way back to my quarters, pulling the blanket closer. The thing about stone castles? It's effing cold.

I turn a corner and realize that I haven't really been paying attention to where I'd been going.

This is where the elves are.

"Crap." I mutter, turning around to run back to my room.

Yes, run. Shut up.

Things don't exactly work out in my favor though, because I find myself face-to-face with the one elf I've been meaning to avoid.

I step back like I've been burned and he takes one look at me before promptly turning pink and coughing awkwardly.

I raise an eyebrow at him in question.

"You're in naught but your nightgown." He informs me like I wasn't aware of this when I got out of bed.

"And a blanket." I correct, grinning.

"Aye and a blanket." He amends, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Must you be so inappropriate?"

"Always, honeychild, always." I agree, doing a little curtsey and skipping off.

My smile slides off as soon as I'm away from him and I run to my room and close the door. Why does he have to be so easy to talk to, damn him?

**OoO**

"Sam?" a voice calls from outside my room. Maia opens the door to reveal Eowyn who has a glare on her face, decidedly directed at me.

"Why is the woman who slew the Witchking of Angmar looking at me like that?" I ask Maia apprehensively. My maid turns to the Lady of Rohan and brusquely repeats the question. I would laugh if Eowyn didn't look so pissed.

"What in the name of all that is good have you been doing, holed up in your room for the past two days?" she snaps at me.

Don't look so surprised, I said I was going to avoid him, didn't I? The only effective way to do that is to bury myself in my room for as long as possible.

Eowyn doesn't really need to know that, though.

"Reading and sewing and eating." I inform her, motioning to the pieces of cloth and the pile of books that served as my props.

"Orcshit." She says eyes boring into mine. I blink at her in surprise. Seriously, the mouth on her! "You are hiding."

"Eowyn, darling, what would I be hiding from?" I ask, scoffing. Maia decides to enter the conversation with a small, knowing cough. I glare at her.

"Oh, I believe it is not so much a question of what, as a whom is it not?" Eowyn asks me slyly, arms folding across her chest.

I don't answer. In all actuality, I don't think I _can_ answer. I can't be _this_ obvious, can I?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Eowyn." I finally mutter, turning away from her.

Life was so much easier when everybody wasn't all up in my business.

"You are in love with him!" she accuses. The door slams open and the two people I wanted to see least of all walked in.

"Who is in love with whom?" Faramir asks, making his way to Eowyn and planting a kiss on her cheek. Stupid brother and his stupid betrothed and his stupid fiancée. Shut up, I get incoherent when I'm mad.

Stupid brothers and their stupid timing.

"Ai, Elbereth please tell me you are joking." Boromir said, looking at his brother incredulously.

Okay, this is too much.

"Was there a point to all this?" I ask meekly. "Because I'd really just rather be with myself for a while."

They exchange a look.

Uh-oh.

I don't like that look.

The overly concerned, things are not as they should be, kind of look. That is not what I need right now.

"Sam, this is not like you." Boromir says, sitting at the edge of my bed and frowning at me.

"On the contrary," I answer, looking out the window gloomily. "This is exactly like me. I've always been the type to hide in my room, the entire quest just brought out my proactive side, but I've always been antisocial. There's no need to be alarmed."

Lying through the teeth is a special skill of mine, can't you tell?

"Well then, that is to change right this instant." He declares, although by the look on his face he's more than aware that I just spouted grade A bullshit. He turns to Maia and states commandingly, "Maia, make sure she is dressed within the hour and escort her to the dining hall. Kicking and screaming, if need be."

"WHAT? YOU CAN'T DO THAT."

"You'll find that I can, and I will Samantha." He retorts smugly. "I'll not have you waste away here. There is much work to be done. Aragorn's coronation is next week, father is—indisposed so the task of preparations fall to the Steward's Children. You dine with _family_ and friends."

He practically struts out of the room, Faramir and Eowyn in tow, as I seethe and glare daggers at his retreating back.

**OoO**

Dinner is over and done with and I'm sitting outside in the gardens, alone. I feel very lonely and unloved but I'm not complaining because I was so crabby over dinner that everyone just chose to leave me well enough alone. The loneliness is my own fault.

In my defense though, I was perfectly content to stay in my room and avoid a certain elf-that-shall-not-be-named like hell but Boromir made me go down. And that spiel about eating with family really got to me. I hate Boromir and his skill at guilt-trips.

Sure, he may not have meant it to be one but the fact still remains that it got to me. He and Faramir (and I suppose Denethor too, in some fashion) are my only family here. It makes me feel like absolute shit to think that I'm neglecting them just because I'm having male-issues.

But that's exactly what I've been doing, haven't I?

Bollocks.

Life is a cruel bitch.

Life needs to get laid.

"You have been avoiding me." He tells me. His voice invades my thoughts so suddenly; I actually fall off the stone bench.

"Oh _man_, I just got these jeans cleaned Legolas!" I complain as I get up and notice the attractive mud stain on my ass.

I seriously, didn't even hear him approach. You'd think all the battles would have sharpened my senses a little bit but apparently not.

He apologizes for startling me and I grumble about stupid light-footed elves and their heart-attack potentials.

"You have been avoiding me, Sam." He says again.

I hunch my shoulders and stare at the grass beneath my feet. "Get over yourself." I snort at him.

"I beg your pardon?" He says, drawing a sharp intake of breath.

I wave a hand dismissively at his face. "Why would I avoid anyone? Why would I avoid _you_?" I ask him irritably before my voice turns soft. "It's not like I've fought with anyone recently, save you, and I already forgave you, remember? Mostly because I overreacted a little bit before and I felt you didn't really deserve the wrath of an unstable hormonal girl. So no, Legolas, I have not been avoiding you. I just need to be alone for awhile."

He heaves a sigh and rubs his temple wearily.

I can practically hear his teeth grinding.

Heh. I'm infuriating him again, I wonder why.

Before I know what's happening, his hand is on my chin, turning my face towards him. "Look me in the eyes, and then tell me that you are not avoiding me."

Bollocks on toast and a trapeze fly.

I lie through my teeth again and his hand drops to his lap. "I see." He says, unmistakable sadness creeping into his voice. "You are a terrible liar, my lady. I will leave you in peace, until you are ready to tell me what your trouble with me is."

He takes his leave then, leaving me staring after him, my mouth hanging open.

**OoO**

"Where are you lot going?" I demand, walking into the stables to feed my hussy of a horse and seeing Legolas, the Twins and Hal saddling horses.

They exchange a glance. Well, Hal and the twins did; Legolas just kept tending to his horse.

He's been doing that ever since that night in the gardens. I think I may have hurt his feelings pretty bad, with the avoiding thing. But at least now, he's avoiding me back and this way, things will be far easier and less messy.

Just because I know it'll be easier doesn't make it any less painful though.

I enjoy Legolas' company, you see. He's smart and caring and he laughs at my jokes and my antics. He tells me stories and is generally just _there_. Having to avoid him is the pits.

Oh, and that little fact that I love him? That sorta sucks too.

"Word has arrived that Arwen's escort is on their way here." Elladan informs me. "We ride out to meet them."

"Oh." So they're leaving. "For Aragorn's coronation, yeah? Next week?"

"Aye, little one. Next week." Elrohir nods, brushing his horse's mane.

"Oh." Is all I can say. I sneak a glance at Legolas before quickly exiting the stable.

I should be glad that they're going to be gone. I should. I bloody well should. This means that I can walk around freely, and not avoid certain corridors like hell.

I'm not though.

I wander into the library and sit down, staring at the book left open on the table, unblinkingly.

…I'll miss him

Ugh.

When did I turn into such a bloody woman?

**OoO**

**-Legolas-**

"That went well." Elladan informs me cheerfully. I let out a derisive snort and he raises both hands in defense. "Peace, your Highness, I was merely jesting."

"Don't." I tell him shortly. Samantha and I have not spoken since that night in the garden's and I intend to keep it that way. There is a certain air of sadness about her whenever she has been in my company lately, and I cannot bear to think that I am the one causing that sadness. So if she wishes to avoid me then so be it, I shall not make it hard for her. I might not be able to see her laugh or joke or do the crazy, outlandish things she is often wont to do, but at least I know that she's doing them.

But Sweet Eru, how I miss her.

He nods apologetically. "Forgive me, my friend, I meant no offence."

I sigh. "Nay, I am just—crabby right now."

Haldir lets out a laugh and shakes his head as if to say 'I couldn't have put it better myself'. Always the damned smart-ass, that March Warden.

"You never did tell us why you and the young one are doing your little Dance of Denial," Haldir says with a meaningful look from Elrohir.

I glare at him. "Denial? What would either of us be denying?"

The three ellons in front of me roll their eyes skyward, as if praying to Iluvatar for some patience.

Now, this is too much.

"The boy's daft." A gruff voice sounds from outside the stables. We all turn to see Gimli, smoking that infernal pipe again, leaning on the door. "They're both daft, truth be told."

"Aye." Haldir agrees, shaking his head in exasperation. "Blind, bloody, fools."

"Enough with the name-calling." I snarl. With friends such as these, orcs need not exist.

"Just statin' facts, lad." The dwarf informs me. "I've just been to talk to the lass. You're both as daft as two bloody stones."

_Alright_.

"If anyone calls me daft, _one more time_…" I threaten. All four of my companions laugh and I survey them darkly. Surely I cannot be so obvious, can I?

**OoO**

Sleep is good. Sleep is grand. Sleep is heaven.

You know what's not good, grand and heavenly? Being poked into consciousness, that's right _away _from sleep, by your maid because you have to be fitted for a _dress_.

Uh, totally not cool Maia.

You know what's even more uncool? Not being able to worm my way out of it. Because apparently, as Daughter of the Steward, I have certain codes of conduct to follow and one of those codes is that I must wear a dress to Aragorn's coronation and pretty much all other social functions.

Ruddy, effing hell.

So here I am, at the seamstress, getting fitted into a dress I'll probably just rip and tear and ruin before the day is done. I've decided to make the most of it though. After all, I can't live in the jeans I brought here from home forever. I'm going to have to get used to the fact that I have to occasionally wear dresses.

Emphasis on occasionally.

So I tell the seamstress I want the dress to be able to hide a blade. She stares at me like I'm crazy but does as I say, so I'm glad.

She sets to work, often calling for the aid of her assistant for business in other parts of the store. A tiny, brown-haired girl that flitted about the room efficiently. I never saw her face, but she seemed competent in what she did.

I frowned thoughtfully. There was something familiar about her.

"Am I supposed to be this short of breath?" I asked my gasping interrupting my thoughts. She grins then loosens the strings of the bodice a bit.

"Better, my Lady?" she asks.

"Yeah." Why'd I have to be born a girl, anyway?

**OoO**

The day of the coronation ceremony dawns bright and dewy. The White Sapling is growing steadily, sure to be in bloom in the next few years of King Elessar's reign. The entire citadel is bustling with activity.

For the first time in about a week, I am charged with excitement. No, seriously lovies, I cannot _wait._

"Maia, Maia, Maia." I sing to my maid as she enters the room and I bound out of bed. "It's today, it's today, it is today!"

She smiles and smoothes my hair back. "I am aware, My Lady. Now come, we must get you ready."

I've never more cooperative in my entire life, I gotta say. I wore the dress without complaint, sat down and let Maia do her magic with my hair and hey, presto we're done!

I get to see Arwen!

Freaking finally, dudes. Freaking, finally.

Maia leaves me for a while to do preparations of her own and I dance over to Boromir's room and cheerfully annoy him until it's time for the ceremony.

**OoO**

I'm standing between my brothers, head held high and a grin occupying half my face. The entire citadel and then some are all huddled together on the top level of the citadel and watching joyously as Gandalf places a silver crown of the standards of Gondor on Aragorn's head. "Now come the days of the King," he said, smiling. "May they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure! Behold the King!"

My ear feels like it's been shattered at the magnitude of the cheers that erupt from the crowd. We're all laughing and clapping. Beside me, Faramir steals a kiss from Eowyn before wrapping an arm around her waist. Boromir shakes his head, amused, and puts an arm around my shoulders.

Aragorn holds up his hands for silence until eventually, it quiets down enough for him to speak. "This day does not belong to one man," he says, ever modest. "But to all. Let us together, rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace."

He begins to sing. "Et Eärello Endorenna utûlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!"

Out of the Great Sea, to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.

Amen to that.

Because that's what he said, didn't he?

Yes, I am a nerd.

He walks amongst the crowd now, nodding to everyone. He passes by us, gives Boromir a nod, and deftly pinches my tummy as he passes by and grins happily at the sight of Faramir and Eowyn.

Don't be so surprised, he did, after all, grow up with the twins.

He comes to a halt in front of Legolas and they clasp shoulders. I duck my head for a moment because by Jove, he looks beautiful. A circlet is upon his brow and he looks every inch the Prince. He smiles a Mona Lisa smile and nods his head behind him, almost imperceptibly.

I grin.

Aragorn's face is morphing slowly into an expression of awed comprehension as he sees the procession of Eldar behind his friend.

There are Galadriel and Celeborn, dressed in white and shimmering, yes actually _shimmering_, in the sunlight. Haldir is behind them with two other elves that I remember to be Rumil and Orophin.

I grin at them and wave.

After them is a tall blonde elf with green eyes almost as perceptive as Galadriel's. It's frightening. He's also very strict and regal-looking. I think, maybe that's King Thranduil.

I fight the urge to let out a squeak and run.

Behind the scary elf king of the House of Oropher are the Twins, followed by a tall blonde elf that is very, very pretty and another dark-haired one. No idea who they are. After them is the Lord of Eyebrows himself and then…

I let out a squee.

"She's here?" I demand of Boromir. "That's her?"

He nods and I jump up and down on the balls of my feet excitedly.

"Who?" Faramir asks.

"Her?" Eowyn's eyebrows are threatening to recede into her hairline.

"It _has_ to be." I answer both of them. "The Queen."

And there she was.

Glory Hallelujah, she is _gorgeous._

My grin is about to split my face as I watch their interaction. He looks absolutely gob smacked as she bows shyly to him. There is an intricate chained circlet on her head that looks like a bitch to put on, and she's wearing a pale green dress that complements her color fantastically. Aragorn takes her chin in his hand and tilts her face towards his and looks her in the eye.

I feel suddenly abashed, like I'm witnessing something intensely intimate and then he kisses her. Right there in front of all of Minas Tirith, he just kisses her, and swings her around still firmly attached. The crowd is cheering again and this time I'm almost ninety percent positive that I've gone deaf.

The pair makes their way through the crowd, Aragorn nodding and smiling at everyone. The happiness is practically rolling off of him in waves as we follow him. He stands in front of the hobbits who are bowing awkwardly to him.

"No, my friends." He says stopping them. "You bow to _no one_."

Damn straight!

I bite back a giggle at their faces. Lordy, I've never seen people look more uncomfortable in my life. I suppose there's a downside to saving the world, after all.

**OoO**

There is a feast after the ceremony and the nobility continue to the Great Hall for dancing and merriment.

"Am I really required to make an appearance?" I gripe at my brother.

"You are a Lady of Gondor now, little sister." He says simply, as if that was the answer to all my questions.

I roll my eyes and heave a sigh as the doors open and he leads me in.

---

All in all, it's a good party. Mind you, I'm three goblets of wine farther from sobriety, but it's a good party.

The food is excellent.

I must talk to Erothon once I get the chance.

There is a band, in all the classical sense of the word, and they strike up a beat to start up the dancing. I've recruited Gimli to make sure no one comes near either of us to ask us to dance, because honestly, I'm not feeling up to it, and half-drunk certainly isn't the way to introduce myself to Gondorian High Society.

Right.

Mostly, it's just because I can't dance.

"You alright lass?" he asks.

I nod.

"M'okay Gimli," I tell him, smiling.

"You and the lad speaking yet?" I glare at him automatically. I know who the lad is. "I take it that's a no. Ye really are being bloody daft y'know."

"I'm not daft, Gimli." I snap. "I'm actually being smart."

He rolls his eyes at that. "Oh yes. Makin' yourself miserable, that is a very intelligent thing to do."

"Shut up, Gimli."

---

Arwen and Aragorn haven't missed a single dance. I'm very impressed. I wonder how much Arwen's feet must be killing her when a hand taps me on the shoulder. I look up to see, of course, nobody else but him. Sometimes I think the Powers that Be hate me.

And by sometimes I mean most of the freaking time.

"I have something to show you." He says. I stare at him for a minute, contemplating the consequences of going with him before deciding to just screw it.

So maybe he _does_ see me as only a little sister. And maybe, just maybe, he doesn't and he sees me exactly the way I want him to. Maybe there's a chance that this will work. Maybe this is the wine talking.

One thing's for sure though, Benjamin Franklin once said that knowing is better than wondering, and you know what? I think he's right. I'd rather be hurt and know for sure that it's hopeless, than spend the rest of my life thinking about might-have-beens.

I smile and stand up. "Yeah, okay sure."

**a/n: hate it, love it? Tell me! I have the next chapter done and waiting. So if you want it quick, you know what to do. Also, you guys, I hate FF evil. Seriously. This chapter has been finished for about a week now, but it hasn't been posted because the site won't let me bloody upload. So, I ask you now if you would mind terribly if you had to read it on another site? Like, Livejournal perhaps? It's just easier to post there and I could keep the updates coming faster. Let me know, yeah? Link is in my profile, I'm uploading the next chapter there right now.  
**

Valinor's Twilight: Thank you!

Kinz: Haha, thank you, Sam is quite the character. As for the get together, we'll see.

Flightless Osprey: It'll be done soon, but don't worry, there'll be a sequel! Just, watch out for it. And I suppose Leggers will tell her, I just don't know when.

KittyPersona: Aww, but where's the fun in that? Let's make them angst a little more.

mirrorofinsanity: ahaha, I'll take that as a compliment.

Spirit Mornea: Why thank you.

SerenityAlywas: Totally. The girl's right, she's cursed.


	31. These bygone days

**a/n: I like this chapter, it's full of nonsense and rambling and hee.**

**Chapter 31: These bygone days.**

I smile and stand up. "Yeah, okay sure."

He beams at me. "You're speaking to me again."

"Looks like it, for now." He takes my hand and leads me out of the Hall and into the night air. "Where are we going?"

He doesn't answer me, just keeps walking, one hand in his pocket and the other around mine until we reach the stables.

I look up at him, confused. "What are we doing here?"

"While we rode towards Rohan to greet Arwen's party, we came across an old friend." He said.

I look at him, nonplussed.

Maybe he got so frustrated with my avoidance that he's snapped?

Oh but, that's not good, his father's here and King Thranduil is one scary, scary elf.

I don't think he'd appreciate it if he finds out that I'm the cause of his baby boy's shift off the coil of sanity.

He points to one of the stalls and I make my way over to it, my brow still knotted together in concern and confusion.

…OH.

"Charcoal?" the black stallion nuzzles me as I reach for its nose and I turn to the elf and give him an overjoyed grin.

It's my horse!

It's my beloved horse that I thought I'd never see again!

I scratch his head in joy and bury my face in his thick mane. "I missed you boy."

He neighs in answer.

Life in the wild has made him smart. Hee. Or maybe it's the elvish company.

Probably the elvish company.

I've never been so glad to see a horse in my entire life. I missed him so much. Clea is a nice, sturdy mare but she's a hussy.

I much prefer my handsome steed.

I walk over to Legolas who has kindly gone outside to let me enjoy my quiet reunion and tap him on the shoulder. He turns to me and I reach up and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Let's go back to the party."

What? I'm drunk.

**OoO**

I'm sorry but I still cannot get over the glory that is sleep. I don't think that's about to actually change anytime soon; I've gone without it for far too long, the novelty hasn't quite worn off.

So allow me to say that Maia is _really_ getting on my nerves with all the early morning awakenings.

"Oh God, what _now_?" I whine, curling up and pulling my pillow over my face.

"Breakfast, my Lady." She sounds so chipper I want to hurl something at her. Instead, I pull a face and sit up.

"I'm not hungry." I tell her.

"Good, give it to us then because that's something we very much are." Elladan says, crossing the threshold of my room and reaching for my tray. I frown at him.

"Why? Get your own breakfast, Elladan." I snap, snatching my plate out of his grasp.

Why yes, I am a spiteful bitch, didn't you notice?

"You must share! The Halflings are draining Minas Tirith dry." Elrohir informs me, snatching a piece of bacon from the plate, damn elvish reflexes. "It is truly a wonder how such small creatures manage to eat twice their combined body weight in one sitting, and then some."

I laugh at that. It's usually thrice their combined body weight but why ruin Elrohir's optimistic guesstimation?

Maia gives me a reproving glare as I give up my breakfast to the twins.

I laugh and shake my head at her.

She gives a long-suffering sigh; I really do have that effect on people sadly, and opens the window. "It is a lovely May morning, my Lady, perfect for a day of lavishness. What would you like to do?"

May? It's already fucking May?

"Language, little one." Elrohir chides, smiling.

I stick out a tongue at him.

Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.

"Maia, what date is it?" I suddenly demand of my maid.

She looks at me strangely before answering. "The second of May."

I start laughing then. Now both the twins have joined my maid in eyeing me strangely.

"What, pray tell, is so terribly amusing?" says a voice from the doorway. The ringbearer is standing there, arms across his chest, looking decidedly hobbity and huggable, if a little annoyed.

Huh, I must have been a little loud.

"In six days, I'll no longer be a teenager." I inform them all, and clarify when they give me blank looks. "May eighth is my twentieth birthday."

"May eighth, you say?" he repeats.

I nod.

Frodo grins at this and leaves immediately. That look in his eyes is the same as the one currently a-twinkling in the twins' eyes.

Oh no.

I smell trouble.

**OoO**

Before lunch, I decide to go see Erothon and pester him in the kitchens, but he wouldn't let me in.

Hollered something about banning everyone from the kitchens for the remainder of the week and until Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, and sent me far away. I'm a bit hurt, I must say but I understand.

He's busy.

But now I have to look for someone else to annoy. Damn.

I wander into the library and find myself surrounded by elves. It's not surprising. What with the number of them here, it's not weird to find them flipping everywhere.

"Ah, Samantha. You look well." Galadriel says, holding out her hand in greeting, a smile on her face. I blink a few times, dazzled. I return her smile and take the offered hand.

"As well as can be, my Lady." I answer in agreement, ducking my head respectfully. I look around. "I can see I'm in very prestigious company."

Celeborn laughs at this and exchanges a glance with the two other elves I'd seen in the procession. I still don't know who the other blondie and darky are. It's been nagging me since yesterday.

Elrond's eyebrows twitch and his lips turn slightly at the corners, hinting at a smile. "These are my advisors, Glorfindel and Erestor."

I stare at them both with wide eyes. "Wow."

I pause and recall my history.

"Glorfindel of Gondolin? Fucking seriously?" I gape in wonder. He's so pretty.

Celeborn clears his throat and gives me a pointed look for my language. I don't even have the decency to look abashed; instead I bask in Glorfindel's prettiness.

I am not even kidding.

"Samantha, I presume?" he says, smiling down at me and extending a hand. Elves are really tall. I reach to shake it but he brings my hand to his lips instead. "I have heard some very interesting tales about you."

Oh he is charming; I tell him so, complete with a face that makes them all laugh.

Elves find me strangely amusing for some reason.

Amusing and incredibly weird.

He probably heard stories from Hal and the Twins. I'm going to kill them. "Nothing _too_ horrible, I hope."

He just grins.

It probably is horrible.

Horribly embarrassing, I mean.

They are dead elves walking.

"You and I have much to talk about, once time allows _ ai er_." Erestor says, shaking my hand and smiling kindly at me.

I suddenly remember what Elrond said at Dunharrow and groan inwardly. What? I'm going to have to explain technology aren't I? Augh.

"This is Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen." Galadriel says, leading me over to the imposing elf-lord. I give a brief glance at her, noticing her amused smile and hoping I don't sound as intimidated as I felt.

"Your Majesty." I said as respectfully as I could, bowing low. Voice steady, yay! He looks me up and down, the same way Hal did when we first met. The Lothlorien Assessment Glare, I called it but apparently it isn't restricted to the borders of the Golden Wood. I feel my chin jutting out, ever-so-slightly in defiance. It's an automatic response to authority.

What? I'm a twenty-first century kid.

The product of a Manhattanite and a Californian.

I have rebellion and sunshine mixed into me like a cocktail drink.

Slowly, he smiles at me and it's so much like his son that I can't help but smile back. Brilliantly. His eyes twinkle, like some part of him has been appeased and he extends both hands to me.

I take them.

I'm a rebel, not a moron.

"It is a pleasure, indeed."

**OoO**

"And where are you going?" a voice from behind me asks. I turn to see Arwen smiling serenely at me. Damn, I thought I'd been stealthy.

"I was going for a ride in the fields." I told her, pointing at Pelennor.

"Alone, little one?" her brow furrows in concern. Okay, what is it with elves and calling me little one? I know I'm not as tall as an elleth but I'm not _completely_ diminutive either.

In fact, I'm considered perfectly average back home. "Yes, my Lady. I won't go very far. I just wanted to give my horse some exercise."

And get away from all the crazy elves.

Especially Galadriel and her smile.

By the Valar, she knows something she's not telling and it's driving me bonkers.

She frowns and I immediately regret ever wanting to go riding. That is how pretty Arwen is. When she's unhappy, you want to do everything in your power to make her smile, and when she does, you want to keep it that way."I do not think it wise; there are still enemies out there. Perhaps it would be more prudent to put off your ride until we find a companion for you. You can spend some time with me in the meantime."

I look at her, surprised. "You want to spend time with me?"

"Yes, that surprises you?" she asks with a laugh like tinkling bells.

I think about it and shrug. "A little. Most elves seem to find me rather strange."

"Oh, indeed. You're ways are foreign and at times incomprehensible to me, little one, but from what I have head tell, you are quite the character. A character in need of a friend of the feminine variety." She says, linking arms with me and walking with me to her rooms.

Elves.

They're always so damn perceptive.

**OoO**

I am bored.

I am so bloody fucking bored, if I don't get to do something soon, I will explode.

Seriously, I'm going to nuke on everyone's asses if this continues.

I can't find anything to do, or anyone to pester because everyone is doing something.

Seriously.

Everyone is busy and doesn't have time for me. I know I sound like a three-year-old but _still_! Where is everybody?

Tomorrow is my birthday; I should have a little bit of pre-birthday attention.

I wander aimlessly for an hour before finally losing it and snatching a towel, a robe, and some clothes from my room.

I'm going swimming in the pond.

---

The pond is in the expansive gardens, nestled in a thicket of large trees and bushes. The water is clear and clean and cool and does wonders to calm me.

I shouldn't be this pissed, really.

I'm being unnecessarily touchy.

I think maybe it's because everyone is busy, save me, and I'm feel like a useless sod. I mean, how come everyone is off doing something and I'm hanging about like a dead-panned dolt?

My own inadequacies are getting to me. Damn.

I never really thought about how different things would be once the war was over. I mean—I _did_ but I made sure it was as little as possible.

I believe the brief thing with Legolas is more than enough proof that I'm excellent at denial. Besides, these past few months, I've been pretty much occupied with the task of keeping myself alive and slaughtering baddies to worry about what was to come after all the slaying was done.

This means, of course, that now that it actually is done, I have no idea what to do with myself.

I mean, I'm hardly fit to be a noblewoman.

Please. Boromir wouldn't even try. Not really.

He'd make me go to the occasional gatherings of course; make me attend celebrations and the like, in a dress, but I'll never be like the women of the court.

I've been around men too much, seen too much of war to ever be comfortable in court.

So what now?

Where do I go from here?

I push myself out of the water and lie on the bank for awhile, absorbing the last of the sun's rays before drying myself and getting dressed, shaking the gloomy thoughts out of my head.

**OoO**

"Sam?" Oh, it's Faramir.

Given that it's the first time I've actually seen anyone aside from the High, Lordly Elves, I all but jump him and nearly knock him down with my hug.

"Well, this is new. You're very exuberant today, are you not?" he says, ruffling my hair in the big-brotherly way he and Boromir are so good at.

"No." I answer, scowling briefly at him before shrugging. "Yes. Not that you can blame me, I haven't seen _anyone_ but elves today. As cool as I think they are, being in the same room as the Lord of Imladris and his Chief Advisor, the Lord and Lady of Caras Galdhon, the King of Eryn Lasgalen and a Balrog-slayer is more than a little bit terrifying."

He laughs at this. Boisterously.

He's probably imagining me talking to said Lords and Lady and having a right piss. I thump him on the head. "Don't laugh at your poor sister's expense. You're supposed to be the supportive brother."

He snorts at this and gives me a look that says, plain as day, 'You have got to be kidding me.'

Bloody brothers.

"Come then, little sister, I shall try to be supportive over dinner." He says, taking my hand and leading me to the dining hall.

No sooner had we been seated, I quickly turned to him and demanded, "Where have you been all day? Where has _everybody_ been? "

He looks at me blankly and I feel like my concern is silly. "Why, we have been in the citadel all day, of course."

I make a face at him.

"Not what I meant." I grumble. He shakes his head and loads my plate with potatoes, gesturing for me to eat and shut my trap.

The hall begins to fill and I finally see the fellowship about. The hobbits are doing what they do best and everyone else is having a jolly good time.

I've seen more than one sly grin exchanged and I am now highly suspicious. Something's afoot, I think. And I'm not sure I like not being privy to it.

"Smile, Sam." Haldir mutters, taking the seat beside her. "You look…well, like I did when first I saw your dwarven companion on the banks of Nimrodel, to be honest."

"You lot are planning something." It's a statement, not a question.

The look the entire group gives each other is more than enough to convince me.

Haldir merely shrugs. "What on earth are you talking about?"

My eyes narrow as I scoop the last bit of my food into my mouth. I gulp down a drink and push myself out of my seat. I point two fingers at my still narrowed eyes and make a sweeping gesture at them all, elves, men and hobbits alike. "I'm watching you, kids."

Aragorn doesn't even bother hiding his snort as I leave the hall.

Being with Arwen agrees with him; it's certainly brought out his light-hearted side.

Pity it has to be exhibited at my expense though.

**OoO**

Okay, so you know how sleeping is so utterly divine? It seems so much more wonderful than it usually is when you've stayed up all night, waiting for the tolling of the midnight bell.

What? I wanted to count down to my birthday.

I only turn twenty once. And the whole experience has been colored by the fact that I am in Gondor. In Middle-Earth, after the fall of Sauron.

This is by far, the coolest birthday ever.

In point of fact, I was having a very good dream. There was chocolate involved. Lots and lots of it in fact, as well as various other forms of junk food that I have been sorely missing, all sprouting feet and jumping helpfully into my waiting arms.

It's sad that one of the things I miss most from my previous world is the junk food, isn't it?

Oh well.

I was deep in slumber, and may have actually been smiling stupidly into my pillow when sunlight floods through the windows.

Sunlight!

Why, I ask you, _why_?

"Good Morning, my Lady." Maia chirrups as she opens the windows. I groan into my pillow and proceed to burrow into it, absolutely refusing to resurface.

That is, of course, until she starts poking me.

"My Lady," more insistent poking. "Sam!"

Ugh.

I sit up and glare darkly. My hair is frizzy and sticking up in all directions and I hiss at the glare of the sunlight. "What, Maia, _what_?"

She looks a little hurt and my expression softens. God, I'm such a marshmallow.

"It was time to wake." She answered me in a small voice.

I sigh and rub my temple wearily. "A little less sunlight, next time."

"I am sorry, Sam." She says apologetically. "Would you prefer to go back to sleep?"

She's learning, glory hallelujah.

I nod enthusiastically. "If you could wake me after lunch, that would be divine, Maia."

"Alright, although I must say that you're missing out terribly on the joys of the day." She tells me, walking to the door.

I pull the blanket over my head and settle in. "I think I'll live."

**OoO**

I am much more affable after I've had a good, long sleep, as Maia is quick to find out when she comes back to rouse me that afternoon. She is carrying food in a tray as well as some books.

My eyes instantly go round at the sight of them.

Not the food, the books.

I thought we'd already established that I am Le Nerd Extraordinaire.

She must have noticed my look and nodded to the books. "One of the Elf Lords sent these up, my Lady."

I blink at her. "Which one?"

She shakes her head and smiles in amusement and I frown at her in question. "It is just amusing to me, how you are able to ask _which_ Elf Lord is sending you book recommendations, my Lady."

I laugh. "Oh honey, wait till the Twins get settled, then we'll see if you think elves are so spiffy."

"Have it your own way, then." She says, smiling. "But it was the slightly frightening Lord of Lothlorien; he said that perhaps you might enjoy them."

Hmmm, Celeborn.

I relieve her of her burdens and flip through the books. One is a detailed history of Doriath and the other is about the long, sordid history of the kingdom of Gondor.

That's to be expected.

Celeborn was an elf of Doriath, wasn't he?

Did you know that elves are incredibly vain? They are; no lie. They like to boast about the beauty of their homes, their children, their music, _everything_.

And I suppose he thinks I should read up on my history, being a Woman of Gondor now.

I sift through the pile and come across a small, bound tome that revealed some of the better loved recipes of Gondor.

I laugh at this.

Boy, but elves can be _so_ sweet sometimes.

---

I spend most of the afternoon in my room, reading all the books Celeborn sent me. Mostly, I felt like I had to, because Maia was sitting by the door, working on a bit of embroidery and behaving more like a watchdog than a kind and gentle maid.

It was very disconcerting.

Especially having her suddenly draw a bath for me and insisting she see to my hair and pick a dress for me.

I think maybe there's something in Gondor's water supply. Something that makes all of its inhabitants absolutely gaga.

"I think I'll just keep reading, Maia." I say, not quite sure what to make of her strange behavior.

"But you cannot!" she says, distressed and I look up at her in alarm.

"Woah, chill out Maia." I say, but I'm forced to rectify my modern slang at her blank look. "Relax. Seriously. You're all over the place today, are you okay?"

"I only wish for you to have a wonderful birthday." She explains, looking almost tearful. I cringe at the thought. I hate making nice people cry.

Especially not when she's being so sweet.

Come to think of it, my birthday is near finished and I haven't had anyone greet me or _anything_. It's most off-putting. You'd think that even though I've been holed up in my room all day, they'd have thought to poke a head in and say a few words.

Two words in fact.

They're not that long, not that hard to say.

It'd probably take no more than twenty seconds of their time and yet I've heard nary a peep from no one. Not my brothers or the twins, or Frodo or _anybody_.

I frown at this.

They probably forgot.

"Alright Maia, I'll be good." I say, not managing to keep the sullenness from my voice. "Although I don't really see the point of dressing me up and making me look pretty when everyone seems to have forgotten my birthday anyway."

She says nothing in answer, simply smiles happily and leads me to the bathroom.

Excuse me while I go have a good sulk.

**OoO**

.God.

.God.

They didn't forget!

I was wrong, I was wrong!

I knew they were planning something but I never thought it would be _this_!

This is, by all accounts, the best birthday _ever_.

So, you know how I was sulking and moping enough to fill an entire calendar of woe? Turns out there was no need for my lamentations because not only was everyone fully aware that today is my birthday, they had presents.

Oh, and they threw me a surprise party.

Maia led me down the staircase to the Dining Hall, where I had been more than prepared to glare at everyone and be as much of a bitch as I could possibly be for everyone forgetting my birthday, when we encounter Arwen.

She was smiling at me, and of course, her being _her_, I couldn't exactly resist the urge to smile back.

She's far too pretty to ever frown at.

And far too nice to ever _want_ to frown at.

"A word if you please, Sam." I nodded my head and followed her into an antechamber off the hallway, with Maia following behind us.

The next thing I knew, elves, hobbits and men were jumping from behind pillars and under tables all echoing the same sentiment.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAMANTHA!"

I remember Arwen's laugh echoing through the room at my shocked face. I had honestly believed that they'd all forgotten.

Seeing them all there, though, all the business and the sly glances seemed to make sense.

Boy was I ever daft.

Pippin jumps me and engulfs me in a hug. "You should have seen your face—you _should_ see your face, it is very, very amusing. Happy Birthday, Sam."

I look around the room and see the streamers hanging from the ceilings, the brightly colored tablecloths. The food is superb, or at least it looks that way, and there is a fantastic-looking cake nestled in the corner next to a pile of gifts.

No, these aren't tears in my eyes.

Shut up.

"Speechless, dear sister?" Boromir asks, beaming. He takes one look at me and roars with laughter, before engulfing me in a bone-crushing hug. "Shocked to tears! Oh, but this is priceless!"

"I thought you'd all forgotten." I admit, wiping my nose and quickly adding. "And I'm not crying! I'm _not_!"

"Forget?" Frodo repeats looking absolutely appalled. "Surely you jest!"

"Thank you, Frodo." I say earnestly. "I know you had no small part in this, you sneaky old thing."

His grin is completely unabashed as I plant a kiss on his brow.

---

Everyone is here.

Or at least, everyone that's dear to me or I've unknowingly endeared myself to.

Don't look so shocked, I'm actually very endearing.

After the hobbits had their way with me (not in that way, gutter-face), I was snatched away by my brothers who then proceeded to hug me to within an inch of my life.

They actually couldn't believe that I thought they'd have forgotten my birthday and apologized if I had felt slighted.

They may drive me crazy more than half the time, but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

And right now?

They're pretty much the best effing brothers in history.

I am then passed around like a ball, being kissed and hugged more than I've ever been in my entire life. It's a very pleasant experience.

The grin hasn't left my face yet, in fact I think it's growing even bigger.

I'm probably blushing so hard I'm about to pop a blood vessel but that's okay, all is well.

I'm having so much fun.

I'm having so much fun that even when Aragorn cued the music and said that I would dance with everyone, being the birthday girl, I didn't even bother to object.

I'm so happy I'm willing to dance.

That is how epic this day feels to me.

---

Drinking and merrymaking are very bad for me.

You'd think this phrase would have been a little more ingrained into my brain by now, but apparently not.

I've had six, count them—_six_, glasses of wine and while I'm not completely smashed, I am slightly, only _slightly_ though, mind you, tipsy.

Most everyone is by now, though.

I am paying particularly close attention to the embroidery on the tablecloths when a hand appears in front of my face.

A hand attached quite firmly to the arm of Glorfindel.

Yum.

He really is very pretty.

I think my smile more than effectively conveyed that I thought he was deliciously good-looking.

He pulls me up from my chair and grins at me. "I do believe you're drunk, my dear."

I shake my head vehemently, but stop because of the way it makes the room spin.

Not pleasant.

"I am not drunk." I correct him. The logical part of me, hidden very deep underneath all the alcohol notes how touched in the head I sound. "I am tipsy. About three more drinks from absolute inebriation, I'd reckon."

He laughs and murmurs something in agreement.

It sounds like agreement to me, anyway.

"Perhaps a dance will help to clear your head?" he asks gesturing to the dance floor.

I giggle madly.

Everything's funny when you're smashed, or near enough to it, anyway.

"I doubt it," I smirk.

The beat of the music is fast, and so are the steps. Faster than what my feet are used to, so Glorfindel did most of the work. It's lucky he's so tall and graceful and managed to catch me and keep me from spinning out of control.

My giggles never ceased, not even when the dance was over.

"Oh, that was fun." I mutter, swaying dizzily. "But next time, not so fast."

"Aye, I shall bear that in mind." He agrees his hand on my elbow. He plants a soft kiss on my cheek, smirking slightly at something behind me, before going off to get more wine.

I look after him curiously, my brain muddled and confused.

Maybe everyday should be my birthday if I get elves like him kissing me on the cheek.

I turn.

Oh, Legolas.

Well, now I feel slightly guilty for that previous thought.

Only slightly guilty, mind you.

Mainly because _this _is an ellon that's also very pretty.

Even when he's glaring, wow.

He gestures something and the music changes, becoming slower and waltzier.

He holds out his hand and, in my drunken stupor, I feel my heart skip a beat.

I think I'm broken.

**OoO**

**-Boromir-**

Well, this is a sight to behold indeed.

I'd feared that my sister would not be able to get over whatever it was that had been bother her about the elf, but it has obviously passed.

Good thing too, I do not think I could have endured any more of Legolas' grouchiness nor Sam's glumness.

I down another gulp of my drink and watch the couples on the dance floor. I had seen the glare the elf had thrown Lord Glorfindel when he saw him kiss my sister on the cheek. Glorfindel sends a smirk at Haldir, and in turn to me, and I give them a discreet thumbs-up sign.

Things are going well.

**OoO**

**-Sam-**

"You shouldn't glare at people, you know." I tell Legolas as we're dancing.

"Pardon?"

I huff. "You were glaring at Glorfindel, earlier. I'm just saying it's rude, especially when he's done nothing at all to warrant your glaring."

He arches an eyebrow at me, and I resist the urge to rip it off his face. "And how are you so sure that my glare was unwarranted, my Lady? I assure you, I do not glare at someone for no apparent reason."

True. "You are generally very crabby these days." I point out.

He shrugs this off. "The glare was very much deserved, Sam, fear not."

"Why?" I can't help but ask.

I'm nosy, so sue me.

I look up at him, eyes wide and expectant. "Why?"

He shakes his head and smiles, pushing a strand of my hair back from my face. "Even if I told you, melethnin, I doubt you would be able to comprehend given your current state."

I stare at him for a second.

"Ohh, you think I'm drunk." I laugh at this and lay my head on his chest. "I am not drunk. Tipsy, not drunk, just tipsy."

He smiles, one of those happy smiles elves have that make it absolutely impossible for mortals to resist.

I don't see it on him very often, so I reach up and touch his face gently. "You should do that more often."

He looks confused so I amend. "Smile like that."

"I think perhaps, a bit of air might do you some good." He says, swaying me to the side quickly.

My head spins and I think maybe he's right.

It doesn't really matter though, since he's already knocked me off my feet and is carrying me out into the cold night.

**OoO**

**-Legolas-**

"You're very pushy." she tells me matter-of-factly as we sit in the garden together. The sounds of the party are still raging inside as her head lies on my lap; I push her hair back from her face every so often, feeling very much that her locks were hindering me from seeing her face.

I laugh at her statement.

No matter what she says, it is quite obvious that she's inebriated.

"Did you know I don't like it when you use strange elvish words on me?" she asks suddenly.

I glance at her, surprised and shake my head. "No, I did not know that."

"It's very frustrating, you see. I never know if you're complimenting me or insulting me." She explains.

"I would never insult you, Sam."

"I know that," she says hurriedly, perhaps thinking that she had offended me. "It's just how it's like, you know?"

She closes her eyes then, and the silence stretches out for a long while. For the most part, I am more than content to just sit here with her, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, but a question has been nagging at me for a long while now.

"Sam?" I ask softly, in case she has fallen asleep.

I would not be surprised if she had, given the amount of wine she has consumed. It always amuses me how mortals never seem to learn that alcohol gets you drunk, and therefore hung-over.

"Hmmm…"

"Would it be wrong of me to ask why you were avoiding me?" I paused and held my breath, in case she decides to blow up at me.

Instead, she turns her face skyward, eyes still closed.

"No, not at all." She answers, and her voice is unmistakably sorrowful again. "It was just easier. For me, anyway."

"Easier?"

"Mhmm, easier to bear. What you don't know won't hurt you, and if you know something's going to hurt you, then make damn sure that you don't ever know. It's a defense mechanism, Legolas. I thought if I stamped it down long enough, it'd just bloody go away." She opens her eyes now and grins at me. "But it didn't and I think, deep down, I already knew that it wouldn't."

This is one of the times where I wish I had the Lady Galadriel's power to read minds because I understood nothing of what she just said.

Apparently, this is obvious because she turns to look at me, head cocked to the side. "You have no idea what I just said, did you?"

She laughs when I shake my head and reaches up to touch my face again, pulling me slightly towards her. My eyebrows knit together in concern at once, wondering what must be going on behind those vivid green eyes.

"I think…" she says slowly, exhibiting just how drunk she is. "I think, maybe, that's okay."

Her lips are only a hair's breadth away from mine so I do what I've been longing to do ever since the ships; I closed the gap.

**a/n: muhahahahaha. Alright you guys, since you obviously don't like LJ I'll keep posting here. I warn you though; the site really hates me sometimes.**

Valinor's Twilight: Hahaha, thank you.

Ventriloquist of San Venganza: Thanks for reading this on LJ. :]

Knight of dreams: Right, okay, well here it is.

Kinz: Well, y'know, Arwen/Aragorn is pretty much my LOTR OTP. :] I'm trying very hard not to let it get domestic and boring, because the battles are over. Hopefully, I don't fail utterly.

Spirit Mornea: And again, more.

KittyPersona: Well, now you won't have to. I'm keeping it here, since none of you seem to like LJ. And look, you got to me.

Aya013: I missed you, dude. Here's the next chapter, I hope you liked it.


	32. Gifts, smirks and the wedding of the AGE

**a/n: I'm cranking these out like crazy, aren't I? I have way too much time on my hands.**

**Chapter 32: Of gifts, smirks and the wedding of the AGE**

My head is exploding in a multitude of big bang scenarios and my stomach has decided that it wants to be a gymnast today.

I am never, ever, drinking again. Ever.

"I distinctly remember you saying the same thing whilst still confined within the borders of Lothlorien, and yet here you are." A voice tells me. It's practically dripping with amusement.

If, y'know, amusement could drip.

I crack an eye open and glare darkly at him. "I'm telling Maia never to allow you in here so early in the morning, ever again. You're infuriating."

His laughter is rich and deep, and altogether a good thing to wake up to, I think.

He doesn't need to know that though.

"Indubitably." He agrees proudly.

It's Legolas in case you were wondering.

I sit and stick my tongue out at him, throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. "What _are_ you doing here so early in the morning, anyway?"

He shrugs.

Yes, elves shrug, we've been over this before.

"I wished to see how you were doing, given last nights events."

I stare curiously at him.

"Events?" I ask.

Oh no.

Sweet heavens, what did I do last night?

"You do not remember?" he asks, surprised, and if I'm honest a little bit relieved. "I thought you had a er—a photographic memory."

I stare at him.

How the bloody hell did he know that?

"Lady Natasha mentioned it to me in passing." He answers quickly.

Crap.

I should really stop saying what I'm thinking.

"Pretty interesting conversation that must have been then, for her to mention that I have a photographic memory." I say, eyebrow rising dubiously.

I'm sorry, it's just weird. It's not like Tasha to randomly say that I have a photographic memory.

"But in answer to your question, yes I do have a photographic memory but it's pretty hard for it to function when I'm hammered because everything is pretty much hazy." I supply, helpfully. "I'm sure I'll remember it eventually though, and I'm just as sure it'll be a moment of chagrin and boundless humiliation for me."

"Oh?"

I laugh and stare at him incredulously. "Have you _seen_ me drunk? I do stupid stuff by the bucket when alcohol is flowing through my veins."

Bollocks.

He's smirking.

He does know how stupid I can get.

"Oh no." I moan, burying my face in my hands. "What did I do? Did I dance on tables and start stripping? Did I kiss a woman? Throw drinks at someone's face for no apparent reason?"

Legolas all but chokes as he hears my list.

"Please tell me you do not list from experience."

I chortle. "Well, I've never done the last one."

Watching the Prince of Mirkwood turn red is certainly very amusing.

"You are _joking_!" he says, and the look he's giving me is saying quite clearly that I better be or he may just throttle me. "Surely you have never!"

I smirk. "I've done the first one; I'm not going to lie, but the second one, not so much. So breathe honeychild."

"You are cruel." He says once he's recovered from the shock.

I shrug.

It's true.

I pretend to shine my fingernails on my sleeve and blow on it; the universal sign for, 'oh, I'm so smooth and cool'. "I know. I didn't do anything like that though, did I?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "Nay, my Lady, I was with you for most the night."

I stare at him, my cheeks turning red.

Augh.

We lapse into a comfortable silence after that, and I lean back into my pillow.

Well, as comfortable as I can be with the knowledge that I spent most of last night with the dude I have feelings for doing God-only-knows-what in my drunken state.

This is to say, not very comfortable at all.

But whatever.

His mention of my best friend's name has opened a floodgate that I've been working very hard to keep closed.

I miss Tasha.

A lot.

I miss my Dad.

Actually, I miss a lot of things right now.

The sentiment must have shown on my face because Legolas' brow is suddenly knit in concern as he asks, "What is it?"

"I miss home."

He nods in understanding. "I had assumed it would be something along those lines; I apologize for bringing it up, I know it must be difficult."

I'm never going to stop missing home, I think. I'm never going to stop missing the people I love, but in all honesty, even if it were possible for me to go back. Even if the Powers that Be sent me something that could take me home right this instant, when I'm missing everything so much it almost hurts, I'd still choose to stay.

Why?

Because this is where I belong now.

There's no place on earth for me anymore. I mean, I lived through the War of the Ring. I've come face-to-face with orcs and Uruks and trolls and all those other nasties.

I've been stabbed and slashed and undermined because I'm a woman, more times than I can count.

If I wound up back home, what the hell would I do with myself?

I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though I'll miss the 21st century, this is my home now.

Legolas takes my hand, and I realize I've been silent and brooding for awhile so I smile up at him and give his hand a squeeze. "I'll be okay, Legolas."

And you know what?

I really do think I will be.

OoO

Arwen's wedding is tomorrow.

I know, I know.

I'm all aflutter.

I actually danced around the hallways this morning.

I know. Eowyn was more than happy to point out how ridiculous I looked.

I, of course, retaliated by telling her to shove off.

Faramir conked me on the head.

I think it's going to bruise.

I conked him back of course. You know me; I'm never one to be kept down.

"Have you opened your presents yet, Sam?" Eowyn asks me over lunch, later. I throw her a glare indicating my bruise.

She laughs.

I shake my head, no, and eye her curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, 'tis nothing." She answers. "I had thought to bring the Queen around for some company in order to take her mind off things. She is dreadfully anxious."

Oh, oh that's really sweet.

I smile and nod. "Of course, sure."

Her sweet smile turns suddenly teasing as she inches closer and nudges me conspiratorially and says in a low voice. "What happened to you last night?" she asks, but she is forced to elaborate at my blank look. "You and the elf went to the garden and did not emerge until the party was nigh on finished."

I blink at her.

She really is living up to her nearing role as big-sister-in-law, isn't she? I don't know how I'll survive her tandem with Faramir.

And honestly, why is everyone suddenly so bloody interested in my life?

I liked it better when they treated me like an insignificant speck instead of like some sort of highly engrossing—wait a minute.

Hold the phone.

"Sam?"

"Which elf, Eowyn?" I ask, although I have a fairly good idea who it is.

"Who else?" Eowyn says, giggling girlishly. "Legolas, of course."

Her next few words are drowned by the events of last night coming back to me, strong, sharp and vivid.

_Oh my god._

Shoot me now.

OoO

So, hanging out with Arwen and Eowyn?

Actually pretty fun.

Not unlike hanging out with girls from back home only…a lot more subdued and since they're both happily off the market, there was far, far less guy appreciation involved.

But see, the thing about being in love, albeit unrequited, is that you're not all that interested in guy appreciation anyway.

Unless, you know, it be the object of your affections.

And since I've just remembered all the sordid details of last night, I'm trying to keep said object of my affections as far away from my thoughts as I possibly can, lest I hurl all over my new sheets.

Arwen is sitting on the edge of my bed, looking resplendent in a blue dress, surrounded by presents.

She's looking a little pale so I put a hand on her arm and make breathing motions. "Good air in, bad air out." I tell her, trying my best to be helpful.

She's waited seventy years for tomorrow; you'd think she'd be a little less nervous.

She gives me a dirty look.

Whoops.

I forgot. She's the granddaughter of Galadriel.

"I feel as though mumakil are traipsing about in my stomach." She says, and I notice that she looks a bit green. "Angry mumakil."

I smile sympathetically.

"Arwen, look, just relax. Everything's going to be fine. You're going to go through tomorrow without a hitch and you'll remain in nuptial bliss for the rest of your long lives. There is nothing to worry about. Trust me."

The sincerity in my tone gets her calm, thank god.

A hyperventilating elf is not something I want on my hands.

"Thank you, Sam." She says, giving my hand a squeeze and I grin warmly at her.

Nothing like female bonding to get your mind off other issues.

"You must open my present!" Eowyn finally says when the silence has gone on long enough. She hands me a flat box wrapped exquisitely in gold.

I am totally keeping the packaging under my bed, shhh.

It's a dress.

A _white_ dress.

I actually snigger and she beams at me.

The joke is well received.

God, sometimes I really do love Eowyn.

Arwen's eyebrow arches delicately and I'm forced to explain. "I'm not a dress-type kind of girl, my Lady. And when we first met, in Edoras, she helped me secure a bath and made the mistake of bringing me a dress. I refused it."

"Ah, and now you have no choice but to accept, and hopefully use the dress in the future," the Evenstar nods in understanding. "Oh, irony."

I reach for another present and discover a beautiful circlet from Boromir with a note saying that I was to wear it tomorrow to show my appreciation.

That is _so _like him, the bossy prat.

Next is a sheath for Keiko from Haldir, and holy cow it is _gorgeous_.

I immediately jump off the bed and put it to use, marveling at the skill of craftsmanship.

Seriously.

Eowyn makes a comment that echoes my sentiments before throwing me a box and giggling uncontrollably.

I wonder for her sanity sometimes, truly.

I open the box and promptly die of humiliation.

No wonder Eowyn's laughing so much.

A gift from the twins.

Yep, Elladan and Elrohir.

I am going to murder those two and put their heads on pikes outside my window.

Ask me what it is, go on and ask me.

It's _lingerie._

I'm not even kidding. It's tiny and sheer and lacy and oh my god, there is a card.

Arwen picks it up and stifles her giggles long enough to read, "Happy birthday little one, we're sure you'll make good use of this."

WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

"Arwen, I know they're your brothers but can I throttle them, please?" I beg the future Queen of Gondor as I buried my face in my pillow.

I'm blushing so much I'm surprised I still have blood left in the rest of my body.

She merely laughs.

Sure, her brothers get me racy undergarments for my birthday and she laughs. If they did that to Eowyn, Eomer would probably have had them lynched.

The giggling continues unabated as I continue opening the rest of my presents. They're all very practical gifts; stuff I can use to help me settle into my new life—my new home.

My blush recedes and turns into a smile as the full extent of how sweet everybody has been hits home. I tackle Arwen and Eowyn with a hug and thank them profusely.

"Think nothing of it, little one." Arwen says, stroking my hair. She sits me back down, like a child with her mother and smiles down at me.

"You missed something." Eowyn says, softly, picking up a tiny box of gilded silver and holding it up to the light.

I frown.

"Now, who's this from?"

I see them share a knowing glance and Eowyn urges me to open it.

I'm telling you, there is something in Gondor's water supply.

I tug slowly at the soft, pale ribbon and pull on the lid.

Ho-lee sheet.

Inside the box, on the dark velvet cushion, are the most beautiful earrings I have ever seen. They're silver and intricate and inlaid with what looks to be emeralds. My heart is beating triple time; I am breath-taken.

This—this is jewelry rush, I do think.

You know when you're out shopping and you see the _perfect_ pair of earrings, or necklace or ring and everything just fades out and it's just you and that piece of jewelry and you just _have_ to have it?

Well, this is so much better than that, because it's love at first sight, and I already _know_ that it's mine.

My only girly obsessions are earrings and shoes. It's the only thing that actually convinced my mother that she hadn't raised a boy.

I run the names of the people at the party in my head, pairing them off with the gifts I'd already opened, to figure out who this one was from.

One face stands out.

_Oh._

"How did he know?" I whisper, momentarily forgetting that an elf is in the room. She smiles that knowing, granddaughter of Galadriel smile that is just so effing infuriating.

"Know what?" Eowyn asks, and I'm thankful that she isn't wearing the same knowing smirk that's on Arwen's face.

"Earrings." I answer, holding up the box. "How did he know that I love earrings?"

"I believe you should take _that_ up with _him._"

Damn elves to hell and back.

OoO

Cue the trumpets, sound the alarms, wake the populace, the day has finally arrived.

That's right ladies and gents; the wedding of the age is upon us!

Maia woke me up extra early to make sure I'm good and ready for the ceremony. She's done a fantastic job, I must say.

My hair is pulled back from my face and I'm wearing a spectacular dress. It's green and I don't feel like I'm wearing a medieval torture device. It isn't ridiculously long and it's not going to be a bitch to walk in.

Oh, and I'm wearing the earrings.

What? It matches.

I still don't know how he knew I liked earrings. It's been driving me insane trying to figure it out.

Well…that and the fact that the vast majority of my birthday night was spent in the gardens making out quite fastidiously with an elf prince.

And he didn't tell me.

I clutch at the edge of the table as this realization hits me.

Hadn't I asked, quite clearly, when he was with me the next day, if I had done anything stupid whilst drunk?

Kissing him, quite clearly constitutes stupid behavior, doesn't it?

Why would he keep this from me?

"Sam?" it's Boromir. He looks concerned. "Are you alright?"

No, I bloody well am not alright.

I think I'm hyperventilating.

I stand up and try to clear my head. "I'm fine."

Oh, but I am good at lying.

"Are you certain you are up to it?" he asks.

Okay, clearly not as good as I think I am.

"I'm fine." I repeat, giving him a look that says 'drop it'. He grabs my elbow and we make our way down.

Minas Tirith is decked out again, and let me tell you, the staff did a wonderful job. This is spectacular.

Boromir and I separate, falling automatically into our places and wait for the ceremony to begin. Faramir steps up next to me and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Lovely day isn't it?" he asks pleasantly. I nod enthusiastically, jumping on the balls of my feet in anticipation.

What?

I'm impatient, don't hold it against me.

Faramir mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like 'women' and 'weddings', and I turn to glare at him only to find that he's walked off to stand beside his betrothed and he's been replaced by Glorfindel.

Hal would have been better, Powers that Be, I'm just saying.

Not that I have anything against the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, but I seem to recall my not-so-cool behavior with him at my party so, it would have been preferable if he wasn't here right now.

Just so I wouldn't be blushing so damn much.

"Lovely day isn't it?" I echo my brother when the awkwardness becomes a little too much for me.

Oh, look at that, I still suck at starting conversations.

He looks at me and smiles in amusement, giving a polite nod.

Right.

Shutting up now.

Honestly, Samantha what the hell is with you and alcohol?

Never again, I say.

All further attempts at conversation and small talk die in my throat as Arwen appears. She's wearing the most beautiful gown I've ever seen, pale and silvery with a hint of violet and what looks to be intricate mithril embroidery.

Dress must be worth a fucking fortune.

Her hair is done half up and half down, the strands twisted about in a million directions. It's like a freaking roadmap of United States back roads; I hope Aragorn's renowned patience doesn't fail him. He's going to need it to get those pins out of her hair.

I'm smirking at the thought, why yes I am.

She's beautiful.

Same as always.

Same as she'll ever be.

I'm ridiculously happy for her.

It must be great to actually be standing there, all serene and happy and sure that this is the right choice. She certainly didn't look like that yesterday, but maybe the uncertainty is part of all of it. Maybe that one moment of doubt is needed to make the happiness that follows that much more real.

Gandalf speaks a few final words and Aragorn doesn't even wait for him to finish, he just picks her up and kisses her.

The crowd cheers itself mute again and he and the queen slowly begin the procession into the halls.

Galadriel and Celeborn follow after them, both looking blissfully happy for their granddaughter. Elrond is next, looking well—mournful but happy, if that makes any sense. A procession of Elves follow, and then Faramir and Eowyn, Boromir and a noblewoman—Sidhelwhen, I think her name is, and then me and Glorfindel.

He offers his hand and smiles. "Shall we, _van er_?"

Well, to be honest it's more of a smirk.

Not that I'm complaining, mind you, smirks usually sit well on elven faces.

Especially male elven faces.

I can feel myself coloring just at the thought of it.

Disgusting, really, how much of a woman I am.

We reach the hall and I quickly bow to Glorfindel.

Oh, most definitely, that is a smirk if ever I saw one.

I all but flee to find Legolas.

At least _he's_ sane.

OoO

I take it back.

Legolas isn't sane; he's as bloody cracked as everybody else. The water of Gondor has gotten to him; it was only a matter of time.

I mean, that's the only explanation. Nothing short of amoebiasis can explain this whole fucking thing. It's ridiculous.

No, I'll go one up.

It's ludicrous.

Certi-fucking-fiably.

Am I rambling? I'm rambling aren't I?

Fantastic; this is just bloody fucking fantastic.

Yes, I'm drunk, thanks for asking.

Yes, _again_.

_You_ try seeing the guy—_elf,_ you love dancing the night away with some tramp, while you're surrounded by other couples who are all celebrating the glory of their love and the like, and we'll see if you don't take to the bottle too.

But that isn't the point.

I think I've lost sight of the point at the moment.

See?

Rambling; that's what I'm doing.

Gimme a second and I'll get on with it.

…

Ah, yes.

So, after taking to the bottle, (I'm not very creative with my words at the moment, I am drunk.) I make my way over to Legolas, who has finally been released from the clutches of the ladies of the court and I pounce.

Thankfully, not quite literally, I don't know how I'd be able to live down actual pouncing.

"Can I speak to you for a moment, my Lord?" I ask through gritted teeth.

I lead the way into the garden, yes I know, I never learn, not bothering to wait for his answer.

I sit down on the bench and begin tugging at my hair. It's a sign of impatience, I think. Or maybe it's just a sign that I'm very, very drunk and very, very pissed off.

"You kissed me." Ye gods, it sounds even more ridiculous now that I've said it. "I kissed you. We kissed. Multiple times. Out here. On my birthday. I asked, you didn't tell me. Why?"

That actually makes my ears hurt.

He stares at me in alarm. "You remember?"

No, I'm just a really good guesser. "What do you think?"

"I apologize." He says after a long silence. "I took advantage of your—"

I interrupt.

I'm drunk, I'm volatile, it's what I do.

"We're both guilty of that." I gripe. "Question is why did you do it?"

He takes a good long look at me then before running his fingers through his hair and swearing something nasty.

My lips turn up at the corners in a smirk.

Foul-mouthed boy, he is.

"Must you always be inebriated when conversations of this nature happen?" he asks, looking as though this face infuriated him quite a bit.

I frown at him in annoyance and confusion.

Mostly just confusion, though.

"What?" I snarl, folding my arms across my chest and glaring.

"This conversation is better left during moments of sobriety, Sam." He says softly.

I'm shaking my head before he even finished. "No, no way. That's what you said last time when I asked you about the glaring and we ended up in a lip-lock, so no, Legolas, you're going to tell me what this is about right now and leave me with the problem of sifting through it tomorrow."

"You are not being reasonable."

Oh, that's just infuriating. "All I want to know are the reasons. That is not being unreasonable. First you kiss me and then withhold information, then you get me the most beautiful pair of earrings that look like they were made specifically for me, and then you dance the night away with some Gondorian wastrel. If anyone's being unreasonable, it's you."

He looks at me like he's seriously contemplating just clobbering me before closing his eyes and letting out a slow, weary sigh.

It may be pretty angry, too, heh.

I take advantage of the silence to pop my questions. "How did you know that I love earrings?"

"You are _truly_ not going to let this go?" he snarls back at me in aggravation. I shake my head firmly. "Fine."

He takes my hand and forces me to sit down on the bench.

"Are you going to answer my questions?" he totally is, but I'm spiteful and I like to rub it in.

"_Yes_, melethnin." He says, passing a hand over his eyes.

I wait.

"I was not aware of your fondness for earrings until just now—or at least, I couldn't be sure." He informs me. His voice has grown all quiet and low, and he's taken my hand in his. "Your only adornment since you first came to be in this world has been those earrings. You seemed to be utterly fixated on those damn hoops, especially in moments of anxiety. I voiced my observations to Arwen and she approved of my gift choice."

She _did_ know something.

Stupid granddaughter of Galadriel.

"You see far too much." I comment, feeling a little breathless. That is far too much detail for any male, elf or not, to notice about me. "You're a good friend, Legolas. Really."

He shoots me a dirty look at this. "What?" I ask, absolutely confused.

"A good friend am I?" he repeats, silkily. "You are always so content—adamant, even, to think of me as nothing more than 'a good friend'. I kissed you Samantha, and it was not because I was drunk or any such nonsense."

The world is spinning; I don't like where this is going.

"Then why did you?" I ask. My voice shakes, just a little, as does the rest of me. I hope he doesn't notice.

He wraps his arms around me, all anger and exasperation forgotten. "You are cold."

I guess he did notice.

I shake my head and tell him that I'm fine, which I am, and that I'm not cold, which I'm really not. Just terrified.

Abso-fucking-lutely.

"I had thought the answer would have been glaringly obvious." He says, and there is an undertone of bitter amusement in his voice. Like this whole thing is so hideously ironic.

Pardon me if I don't see it.

Legolas looks skyward, as if praying to God to please, _please_ grant him some patience. I kid you not; this is what he looks like.

A long moment passes before he looks at me again, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me just a bit. "I love you, you daft woman."

Oh that's nice.

What is with everybody recently? Everyone's been calling me daft, from Gimli to Boromir and now Legolas. I mean, just where do they get off—wait.

Hold the bloody phone.

What did he just say?

"You _what_?" I choke, staring at him with wide eyes. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I am not pulling anything, Sam." He's frowning now, and he's pulled away.

I start laughing then. High-pitched, panicked, mirthless laughter.

Legolas looks at me like I've gone insane, and I think maybe I have.

Yet another thing that might explain this whole thing.

Either he's delusional or I am.

Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, and my sides hurt from laughing so much. Legolas is beginning to look murderous.

"Okay, I deserve that for being such a bitch these past few weeks." I say, still chortling. "You can tell everybody that it's done, haha, joke's over. They can come out now; you got me."

Have I mentioned that I'm really good at defense mechanisms?

It's a gift.

"You think this is a _joke_?"

Did I say beginning to look murderous? I'd say the deed's done now.

"Relax, honeychild, it's all good. I get it, okay? I commend you for your acting skills; now tell the others to come out of their hiding places so we can all have a good laugh, yeah?"

I should really learn to stop talking.

"Elbereth help me," he mutters through gritted teeth. "This is not a joke, Samantha."

I blink. It's not?

Oh gods.

"You are crazy." I inform him, taking a step back. "You _love_ me? Seriously? _You_ love me? Can you hear that? It sounds so wrong. You love _me_?"

"Enough." he snarls. "I believe I have gotten the point; thank you for throwing my heart back in my face, my Lady. I should never have let you know."

Oh, great. Now I've hurt his feelings and he's going to hate me for all eternity.

Stupid, Sam. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Well, maybe you _shouldn't_ have." I mutter, tugging at my hair again. The pins are coming lose; Maia's going to murder me. "Why, and I'm not trying to be spiteful here, why would you love _me_?"

"If I had a reason for that then perhaps this mess could have been prevented!" he explodes. "I did not choose this!"

He's on fire tonight.

I've never heard of proclamations of love being so vaguely insulting.

"You see, this is what I mean. I am not the pick of the pack, I understand that." I agree, nodding my head. What? I'm only being honest here. "And besides, don't go talking about choosing, bucko. You think _I_ did?"

It's his turn to stare at me now.

Well, if he's going out on a limb then I might as well do the same, right? It's only fair, and at least I have the excuse of being drunk.

"Do you know how hard it is to be in the constant presence of someone you loved, and _knew_ beyond measure of a doubt that you couldn't ever have? Do you think I _wanted_ to fall in love with you, you stupid, nancing elf? I thought I could stamp it out, why do you think I was avoiding you? But it just _won't_ go away, and that mi amigo, that just sucks." What? He's not the only one who can be insulting. And at least, I'm being as outright as possible.

I have no skill for subtlety, anyway.

"This is your fault, you know." I inform him. "If you weren't so bloody nice and smart and sweet and brave and infuriating, we wouldn't _be_ in this situation. In fact, I blame _you_ for this whole fiasco entirely."

So, let me just say that when I go off on a tangent, there's not much that can make me shut up. I find a topic, I ride it to death and when it's completely gone, I resurrect it for further conversational pain.

And trust me; I have every intention of riding this thing till it is dead and done.

…that sounded vaguely dirty, didn't it?

"You're in love with me?" he asks, looking gob smacked.

Duh, moron.

"What the bloody hell do you think?" I demand, poking a finger into his chest. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? You know, that is just typical, all you males are the same. You never—"

Like I said, there's not much that can shut me up, but I think he's found one.

**a/n: don't hate me. Merry almost Christmas!**

Whisperoak88: Thank you for the compliments!

Aya013: Soon enough for you? Haha. I figured Sam needed to experience some peace and happiness before her luck comes back to bite her in the ass.

Valinor's Twilight: Thank you!

Minako: And thank you for reviewing.

Kinz: I really appreciate your taking the time to review on LJ. Means a lot. Haha.

DreamerYuri: Here you go!

KittyPersona: Shh, don't say you have no life. I might start feeling ashamed because I constantly check here and on LJ for updates.

Spirit Mornea: I'm glad you like. Any requests for the next chapter?

Knight of dreams: Haha, I actually meant this site. I practically live in LJ, so it was the most convenient place to post. But no matter, the story stays here. :] Hope you liked! a_have__h_ddsssfsfsfgmdk


	33. Tough choices

**a/n: Look! It's a Christmas miracle!**

**Chapter 33: Tough choices.**

**-Sam-**

Oh no, oh no, oh _no_.

Boromir's going to _kill_ me.

He is going to bloody kill me and bury my corpse in Pelennor.

"The speed at which you are turning green is quite remarkable, my dear." A voice from across the room calmly states.

I look up and promptly burst a blood vessel.

Well, no, not really but it would probably have been better if I had.

It would be infinitely better than sitting here in my birthday suit in front of King Thranduil.

Guess what I did last night.

No, seriously, guess. It might help me remember.

The details are fuzzy.

"Please, please, _please_ tell me I didn't do anything stupid last night." I beg, falling back onto the pillow and covering my head with the blanket.

"Perhaps you should tell me what constitutes stupid, before I do."

I groan.

The door opens and Legolas walks in, carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

Yes, cookies.

Can you see why I love him?

Not the chocolate chip ones that I miss so much from home, but cookies all the same.

This is not looking good for me.

Thus far, I've avoided looking at myself, but hiding underneath a blanket really isn't the best way to continue that thread of avoidance so I peek.

Ugh, ugh, _ugh_!

Yep, that's right, naked as the day I was born.

I didn't doubt that would be the case, I'm not dense, but I prefer to live in my own little bubble of reality.

Legolas has a quick whispered conversation with his father, who looks like he's choking back an onslaught of laughter, before turning back to me.

"Adar is leaving now." He says with a pointed half-glance at his father. Thranduil smirks, I'm beginning to think this is an elf's most prominent expression, and nods before letting himself out. As soon as the latch clicks shut, Legolas makes his way over to me, placing the tray on the table beside the bed.

I resist the urge to hit my head on the headboard and fail miserably.

"Boromir is going to kill me." I tell him, moving to whack my head more efficiently.

"He might not." Legolas muses, looking thoughtful as he places his hand between my head and the hard wood.

I stare at him like he's insane.

"Honey, if we did what I think we did last night, I highly doubt Boromir is going to let this go. I mean, it's Boromir; Mister Overprotective Brother in all his glory, remember?" I think he's lost it.

He doesn't say anything, merely shakes his head like I'm some silly human who doesn't see the bigger picture.

I probably don't.

Eh, whatever, I'm still hung-over.

I can be dense if I want to.

He pours some tea for me then, and presses it gently into my hands. "Drink. For your headache."

I obey.

"You know," I begin once I've guzzled some tea. "We're going to have to talk about this."

"I am aware of that, yes." He clambers back into bed and wraps his arms around me. I can't help it, Boromir or no, this is just—why does this have to be this way? Why does it have to be so _easy_?

I'm a twenty-first century woman. I'm not supposed to go wibbly and stupid just because I'm in a man's arms. It shouldn't work this way. I should be a ball-buster, but right here, right now…I'm feeling very much at home.

I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, trying my hardest not to think about this whole debacle. Of course, I can't help it. My brain is a treacherous little thing, with the white men now gone into absolute mutiny.

To be honest, I still can't wrap my head around last night.

He loves me, ladies and muffins.

This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard this side of Britney Spears' and Kevin Federline's marriage.

I mean, I hoped beyond hope that he would but I never actually thought it would happen, y'know? Stuff like this doesn't normally happen for me.

My dreams don't usually just fall into my lap.

I was absolutely fine with the knowledge that my love was unrequited and had no possibility of ever being returned; I had his friendship, which counted for something didn't it?

It isn't my story folks. I'm just some random, and at times I think unwanted, addition. I lost my father, my best friend and the world I grew up in and I said nothing, because complaining wouldn't make it better, wouldn't make up for my loss. So I sucked it up. The most I'd ever thought of having was some semblance of a family.

And I did, so I was pretty much content. I employed self-preservation measures by trying to avoid Legolas, but found that it was more difficult, so I stopped.

Clearly, misery liked me. There was nothing I could do.

Now, I find out that he _loves_ me.

This is just …a tad overwhelming.

Don't even get me started on the hurdles we'd have to skirt over if we ever gave this a shot.

Yes, I said if.

We were drunk last night; drunken people do stupid stuff, as I've exhibited time and time again. I'm still waiting for him to realize he's made a mistake and run as fast as his elf-feet can take him.

"Sam?" he murmurs, looking into my eyes. There is warmth there, and concern and love, and devotion and suddenly, I'm out of bed, shoving my arms into the nearest piece of clothing I can find, which later turns out to be his robe.

"I can't do this." I say, sounding a bit feverish. "It's not fair to you. It just isn't and I can't."

He's out of bed before I can blink, a look of concern occupying his handsome features.

"I'm mortal." I tell him. My voice sounds desperate to my ears, and I'm looking at him pleadingly because I want him to realize the gravity of this fact. "I'm going to die."

"I am aware of that." He answers, arms folding across his chest and looking like I just kicked him.

"And this," I made a rude gesture pertaining to myself. "You still want _this_? You're being stupid." I add, seeing the look on his face. "You don't want this. Do you know what it would do to you, when I die? You would either up and follow after me or spend the rest of your life moping. You're too good for that kind of life, Legolas. I _cannot _put you through that."

Ouch.

I thought it would be easier once I'd gotten it off my chest but _ugh_. Why are things so bloody difficult?

"You are leaving." It isn't a question, and he looks like he did when Aragorn fell off that cliff. The first thing that registers is that maybe he's thinking I'm leaving the room, but it dawns on me that it's deeper than that. He knows that after this, it's done.

This is highly illogical, if you ask me, since there was never anything to finish.

Yes, I'm being harsh. Nothing like the cold, hard truth to make it sink in faster.

"You're immortal." I like stating the obvious. "It's better to lose me now, when there's really nothing for you to lose. You'll be alright; you're strong."

I can't believe how nonchalant my voice sounds; like this is nothing to me.

I gather my dress from a chair and open the door, turning back to look at him. "You've probably never been rejected by a girl before, your Highness, but there's a first time for everything. And besides, you have eternity to get over it. Go find some nice elleth who'll make you happy and not y'know…die."

I exit then, leaving no doubt in his mind that I'm a cold, unfeeling bitch and as I run back to my room, a tear escaping from underneath my eyelids and my heart is pounding so fast it's painful, really fucking painful, I'm actually thankful.

At least, if he thinks I'm a cold, unfeeling bitch then it'll be easier to forget about me, right?

**OoO**

"Sam?" a voice asks. "Where have you been? You did not return last night, and I was worried! Oh sweet Eru are you—you're in naught but _a robe_!"

It's Maia, in case that wasn't obvious. And yes, she is very much scandalized.

She looks furious to find me so bare and makes a move probably to smack me upside the head. I wouldn't know, because at the moment, I'm curled up in the corner by the door, trying to force some air into the cavity in my chest.

It's difficult and the tears aren't really helping.

There is a loud, harsh knock on the door, almost as if the person on the other side was trying to break it down, and Maia cautiously opens it to reveal none other than Boromir.

Of, fucking, course.

Kick me when I'm down, why don't you?

Stupid Powers that Be.

"You!" he thunders, looking every inch the huge, terrifying big-brother that all suitors should fear. I look up at him briefly, eyes still brimming and his face softens. "What is it?"

I make no answer so he picks me up, just lifts me off the floor like I'm yesterday's baggage and deposits me into my bed. It would be sort of embarrassing if I wasn't so shattered.

Maia has wisely made no comment thus far, trying to take my bundle of clothing away from me as subtly as she could but Boromir isn't stupid. His expression changes from thunderstruck to horrified to murderous in the span of fifteen seconds. I'm impressed.

"I'm going to kill him." He mutters, brushing my hair from my face and making a break for the door. The blood starts pounding in my ears and I immediately latch onto his arm, shaking my head vehemently.

"No, Boromir, just…no."

"He hurt you!" he protests. His logic is truly a beautiful thing. "And he brings dishonor to your name!"

"_I_ hurt me." I admit, letting go of his arm and burrowing back into the pillow like it might swallow me whole. I kind of wish it would. "And I hurt him."

I make no comment about the dishonoring thing except a harsh 'mind-your-own-business-I'll-do-who-I-want' glare.

He comes back and sits by my head, and I take the chance to lay my head in his lap. It's a preventive measure, but mostly it's because I need a rock.

I think Boromir might have thought the same because he stayed, stroking my hair as I cried and making it obvious that he wasn't going anywhere.

God, but sometimes I loved him so much.

**OoO**

It's been a week.

I've spent most of the time in my room, much to my brothers' consternation. They gave me hell about it, saying that I shouldn't get one elf get in the way of my life but I didn't budge. Eventually, they let up, especially after even Eowyn and Arwen failed to convince me.

After seven days of seeing nothing but my cold, bare wall though, I think I'm going to go crazy. It still hurts like hell to think about what I'm doing so I do my best to just…glaze over the issue.

And you know what I've learned? I'm actually pretty good at blocking out painful memories.

During the day, I try to keep myself as occupied as possible, reading books about the history of Gondor and Numenór and making various other things.

So far I've made a quilt, woven a basket and filled half a sketchpad with drawings of people from back home.

I feel very domestic.

But I guess I'm starting to think that Faramir's right. I shouldn't let something like this get in the way of my living my life. I can't act like a slighted little kid hiding and sulking in my room, forever.

That's not who I am.

This was _my_ choice, not his, and I should probably suck it up and grow up. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to face Legolas. We're not going to be okay; there is no way that things between us are ever going to be the same because we both know how the other feels, and I shot him down and probably caused more pain than was necessary, but somehow, I'm going to have to live with that.

This was my choice.

Kicking off the sheets and depositing my book by the bedside table, I make my way into the hallway, looking around for Maia.

"Maia?" I put in cautiously, she's sewing.

She looks up and smiles at me. "Hello."

"Hi." I breathe, grinning back. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you'd mind showing me around the citadel. I'm going a bit stir crazy in there, but if you're busy, never mind."

She looks at me, her lip curling but her eyes twinkling in delight. "Not in that, my Lady."

…

So far, I've had two brothers and one Queen and one Shield-maiden throw their arms around me in joy.

"You're alive!" was Faramir's outcry when he saw me marching into the dining hall with Maia. I gave him a look, which he shrugged off being the smooth operator that he is, and promptly hugged me round the middle and spun me around. "We'd thought you were going to remain in your room till you were old and gray."

"Not on your life, boy-o." I don't think anyone missed the set of my jaw before I kissed my brother on the cheek and stole his food.

Sometimes, it's good to know you've been missed.

**OoO**

Maia takes me on a grand tour of the White City, sparing nothing and leaving no alley unexplored. When we come back, it's just in time for dinner and my body is absolutely exhausted. Just my body though, mind you, my brain's still very much awake.

I made a very fascinating discovery about Maia.

She has a family. And not in the daughter sense, either.

She's a mommy.

We went to visit her family in the sixth level this morning, and her kids are gorgeous. They're two little boys aged six and seven.

I was kind of staggered to see how big they were, knowing that Maia's only a few years older than I am. But really, it was silly of me to forget that in this day and age, it was common for women to marry young. This makes me think of the olden days and how maybe, just maybe Arda isn't so fictional after all.

But hoo, let me tell you Inglorin and Arvain are absolutely adorable.

Apparently, Maia's husband is a Guard of the Citadel; goes by the name Ingold. Yes, he's the guy that greeted Gandalf and Pippin in the beginning of the Fifth Book.

It's been a very eventful day.

I'm really glad I decided to spend it outside, instead of in my room.

Maia takes me to the Dining Hall, and takes her leave. "It has been a pleasure, my Lady."

Damn straight.

I walk into the Hall to find that everyone is there, seated and just about ready to begin dinner. And of course, all eyes are on me as I enter. Damn.

The only available seat is at the very end of the table.

With the elves.

Double damn.

I search for Boromir in the vast array of faces and shoot him a panicked glance. He shrugs at me as if to say, 'hey, what can I do?'

Buggeration.

Leaving me no choice, I walk over to the little group and sit down, a look of forced calmness pasted on my face.

I lower myself into my seat as Hal opens his mouth to say something and I snarl, "Shut it, Hal."

He closes his mouth and smirks at me instead.

I reach for the potatoes, keeping my head averted and refusing to look at anything but the table.

I suck in a labored breath, practically drowning in the awkwardness of it all.

I know I said I knew I'd have to face Legolas someday but I didn't think it would be _today_. I was kind of going for a more far-off date, like when I'm eighty-nine and on my deathbed.

But as it is, I have no choice but to suck it up and try not to give him any reason to talk to me. I don't acknowledge his presence at all, something that is quick to amuse his father as well as various other elves.

I'm very glad I provide them with such valuable entertainment.

Yes, that was sarcasm.

My frustration level is rising. I cannot believe this is happening to me.

Why, Powers that Be, _why_?

What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

I'm being melodramatic, yes.

"You look well, _van er_." Glorfindel tells me after the entire twenty minutes that I've been silent. I look up at him; thank God Legolas is on the left-hand side of the table.

"Why do you call me that?" I ask, wrinkling my nose at him. His eyebrow rises and a smirk is on his lips.

I was right; a smirk _is_ Glorfindel's most prominent expression.

"No, seriously. What does that even _mean_?" I continue, shoveling some food into my mouth. "Sindarin is not one of my strong suits, and you people know this. So what is it, do you just _like_ confusing the hell out of me?"

The smirk is even more pronounced now, and it's spread from Glorfindel to Thranduil and oh, look at that even Hal.

Fuck it.

They all look so amused at my colorful outburst I just get even more frustrated. I finish the last bits of my meal and down some water before pushing my chair back.

"Well ladies and gents, it's been fun." I say, not managing to stop the eye roll that has been clawing its way out since Hal opened his mouth. I make a sweeping bow that probably doesn't look good on me. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air and sanity."

After throwing a quick 'how dare you leave me to the sharks' glare at my brothers, I flee from the room letting a stream of profanities escape from my lips.

Aragorn's laughter erupts from the dining hall, as well as one that might have been Elrond.

I think they heard me.

**OoO**

I don't think I can stomach being in my bleak room after today so I decide to head out to the sixth level to visit Charcoal.

I turn a corner to swing by the kitchen, waving at Erothon who is busy behind the counter.

"What, no meddling today?" he asks laughingly.

I smile brightly at him, my first in days, and shake my head. "Not today."

He pretends to look miserable and I laugh. "I bet you're dancing with joy underneath all that flour. What are you making anyway?"

"White cakes, lady fair." He answers charmingly. My eyebrows shoot up, my curiosity piqued. "That got your attention, didn't it?"

"I'll have to catch you on another day and get you to teach me, m'afraid." I say ruefully. "I'm in dire need of some sense of normalcy. Everyone in this castle is insane."

He gives me a bemused look as I snatch a few carrots from a basket and saunter off.

The air is cool and crisp when I get out. The stars are shining brightly in the sky as I head down into the stables. A couple of guards nod respectfully to me and I smile back. Sometimes I forget that I'm a Lady of Gondor now.

It's very odd.

I flag down Eärendil and heave a contented sigh before ducking into the stables and bounding over to my horse.

"Hello boy, how've you been?" He neighs in answer and nudges my shoulder as if to say, 'Spankin' and you?'

I know, I think of the strangest things.

"I shan't disagree with you there." A voice from behind me says the laughter so evident I couldn't have made it clearer if I'd been holding a magnifying glass.

I turn around to see Glorfindel, leaning against the doorframe of the stable, that damnable smirk still on his lips.

I let out a mortified groan.

"Other people fuck up in private, why can't it be the same way for me?" I mutter into Charcoal's ear as though he'd be able to answer my question.

He just looks mournfully up at me and twitches his ear in what I like to think of as a placating gesture. Like he's saying, 'Don't worry Sam, life's not so bad for you, at least you aren't a horse.'

To which, I would have to say I agree.

"I would ask if all blond elves are this bloody annoying but I've already met quite a few and they're perfectly pleasant." I tell him conversationally as I start feeding Charcoal the carrots. "So it must just be you four, who are exceptions to the rule."

"Us four?"

I nod, picking up a brush and running it through the stallion's thick, black mane.

"Haldir, King Thranduil, and you." His eyebrow arches.

"That was only three." He points out.

"Legolas too." I add quietly. The expression on his face is one of smug amusement, like he had known I was going to say that already and found it hilarious that I tried to avoid it.

"You are incredibly infuriating."

"So I have been told." He says softly. "And why is that?"

I think about this. "It's different for each of you." I begin slowly. "With you, it's because you act so bloody sure of yourself all the time, which I'm sure you are, but that damn smirk is making it very hard for me not to punch you." I turn a bit pink and add. "And the flirting. The flirting is infuriating too."

He says nothing, but he's come into the stables now and he's parked himself on top of a table, watching me as I groom my horse.

"With Hal, it's the whole 'The world is full of jokes but it's at everyone's expense but me' stoical thing he's got going on." I continue after the silence. I'm probably just rambling now, as I tend to do when long, awkward silences stretch out in front of me in a bikini. "Thranduil is just infuriating by default; I mean Legolas had to have inherited something from his father, right?"

He lets out a laugh.

"What?"

"You have a certain tendency to ramble." I blink at him, he's right.

"Seriously though," I say, not letting anything deter me. "What is with the flirting?"

He shrugs then. "I like women." He admits, earning a laugh from me. "And I find you fascinating with your strange speech and manners. Plus, I enjoy seeing the look on the Prince's face when I do."

I ignore that last bit and make a face at him. "So basically, I'm the exotic new toy that you want to poke and prod."

"Essentially."

I let out a snort, to which he makes a face. "What?"

"That is one of the most disgusting sounds I have ever made a human make." He informs me, giving me a look that could curdle milk.

I smirk. "Tough."

"It is ill-fitting on one so fair as you." He says in a conclusive manner.

Like I care that it's unbecoming.

Psh.

"And also," he adds after a while. I look up at him expectantly. "Like begets like. I think you are fair, and obviously you think I am as well."

My laughter rings through the clear night as I throw the tops of the carrots at his face. All I can say is, I always _knew_ the House of Golden Flower was comprised of vain pricks. His reasoning is so superficial it just sends me into a fit of giggles.

It's a long while before I stop because I haven't in awhile and it feels so damn _good_.

When I've recovered, I slap Glorfindel in the shoulder for his impudence and say, "You're alright, Balrog-slayer. You're alright."

And you know what?

He is.

**a/n: gimme presents in the form of reviews?**

mirrorofinsanity: Thank you! I hope you liked this one!

SerenityAlways: I think it's because she's so unobservant, so the photographic memory takes in nothing, haha. I hope you liked!

Spirit Mornea: I gave you tingles! I'm very proud. I hope you liked!

Kinz: Well, maybe not for the last chapter but I'm pretty sure you have reason to hate me for this one, lol.

Random person: Oh you flatter me. Seriously, my head feels very big right now.

DreamerYuri: Thank you! I hope you liked it.


	34. Balrogslayer bonding

**a/n: I'M BAAAAAACK.**

**Chapter 34: Balrog-slayer bonding and other misadventures**

**-Sam-**

Glorfindel and I end up talking for most of the night. And by talking, I by no means pertain to actual conversation. The thing about being an elf, you see, is that you get hundreds of years of experience without really noticing, and the thing about hundreds of years of experience is it gives you an opinion on everything. To some of us mortal folk, that gets kinds of annoying after a while.

So after the last remaining conscious stable boy politely kicked us out, we wandered the streets of the citadel engaged in amiable debate. As friendly as a debate can be, anyway.

He was anxious to learn about my world, or as I fervently hope it to be, my _time_, so I indulge him. All those years of school and I finally have a use for it. Funny how that turns out though, doesn't it? The average layman can't find a use for algebra in his daily life but here I am in an imaginary world—well, not so imaginary, but you get my point; and suddenly all that information is a gold mine.

Basically, hurrah for school!

We argue for a solid hour about evolution, him failing to understand the existence of gargantuan reptiles and single-celled organisms becoming complex human beings with varied but perpetual psychological issues, and me on the side of science.

I tried explaining it to him, but he just thinks it's a cop-out. We've mostly just agreed to disagree. After that, I tell him about art and history, staying away from the technical, which had such argument potential.

We've also begun a very long discourse on music.

"Boy bands?" he repeats, his expression one of mild incredulity. I don't blame him, really. Boy bands are scary things that should be dealt with carefully.

"Yes, they were really popular when I was a child." I answer, skipping along the corridor to the kitchen. "Of course by the time I grew up, before I cam here that is, they were slowly dwindling in appeal."

He opens the door for me. Oh, what a gentleman.

"They tried making a comeback but it wasn't all that successful, I think."

"Comeback?" he quirks an eyebrow. I resist the urge to rip it off his face.

"Well, most industries in the 21st century rely on publicity—appealing to the masses. That _is_ what the 21st century is, actually: gross consumerism. As musicians, you're only as good as the public thinks you are. It doesn't matter if you're a musical genius; if the public doesn't like you, you've got a snowball's chance in hell."

He mulls this over for a while as I dart around the kitchen to make food. "What manner of music do these…boy bands produce?"

"Oh, you know," I answer as I beat a few eggs. "The kind with the catchy beats that get in your head and lyrics that turn young girls' heads. Oh, and there's a lot of dancing."

I sing a few bars of Backstreet Boys and demonstrate a dance maneuver. Glorfindel nearly ends up laughing himself off his chair. I stick my tongue out at him.

"That is the sort of music that one can expect in the 21st century?"

I grin. "Bleak, huh?" I set a plate on the table between us with a flourish. "Voila, omelet du fromage."

He raises his eyebrow again and I have to exercise an inordinate amount of restraint to keep from stabbing him with a fork. "What language is it you speak?"

"French." I inform him through a forkful of egg. "It's only one of the many, many languages prolific in the 21st century. It's a lot like Elvish in the sense that it has a very musical tone to it; it's also considered the language of love."

"The 21st century seems a very daunting era." He says finally, after a long pause. "Full of so many advancements and innovations, yet there are no more battles to be fought or heroes to be admired and to sing songs about."

"Oh no, there are battles." I correct, defensively. He looks at me with a curious expression. "There was a war brewing when I left, but it's not the kind of war you'd be proud to relate to your progeny. Still, there are battles. Maybe the greatest of all battles, when you think about it. At any given time, there's at least six billion people in the world and everyday, there are countless who overcome adversity. Children with dark pasts grow up to be good people. "

"The poor rise up from the slums. Individuals stay true to who they are despite the overwhelming push of the crowd. There aren't any swordfights or orcs or dark lords, but evil is more rampant than ever, and the triumph of the human spirit is even more so. And while heroes no longer rush into battler, sword raised, or rally terrified soldiers and give them hope despite the overwhelming odds against them, heroes still exist. They're the parents who work night and day to provide a good future for their children. They're the firemen and doctors nurses who slave all day, sometimes at great risk to themselves, to help those in need." By now, my voice is starting to get a little ragged and it's hard to ignore the tightness in my throat. "There is crime and evil and destruction but the good, however little and hard to come by, makes it all seem worth it."

Glorfindel hands me a silk square and when I look at it nonplussed, he dabs at me cheeks where tears had sprung from my eyes unbidden. "I had known that you were a passionate woman, little one, but until now I had not known exactly how much. Nor was I aware that your tongue was capable of spinning such an inspiring speech." He grins roguishly at me. "Perhaps it would be better than using it for the rudeness that often spills from your lips."

I instantly pull a face at him. "Are you _kidding_? If I did that nobody would be able to put Boromir in his place." I punch him lightly on the arm for thinking such blasphemous thoughts, before adding. "Besides, I like to think my rudeness is part of my charm."

He chuckles at this. "Aye, that it is."

Right, getting off my soapbox now. Being in Middle Earth has made me _so_ prone to speeches.

OoO

While it's good—great, even, to be out and about again, I can't help but miss being holed up in my room.

Why?

Because being in constant motion makes my body thing that it's going into battle, and that is not good for my sanity or anyone else's for that matter. I nearly scalped a maid yesterday because I didn't hear her approach, and my battle instincts kicked in.

The poor girl nearly had a heart attack.

I've confined myself to the library to avoid close shaves with the staff, because I highly doubt Elessar will appreciate it if I killed one of his maids. It's a good place to hide, especially if you want to avoid older brothers, balrog slayers and elven royalty.

Except Galadriel, because I don't think _anyone_ can avoid Galadriel no matter how much they want to.

I'm hiding under a table with a stubby candle and a book about old wives' tales when I find a pair of boot-clad feet in front of me. I blink bemusedly at it once, wondering what the odds are that a pair of boots should appear in front of me just when I finished reading a story about never wearing boots to bed.

Before I can get anywhere with this train of thought, however, _another_ pair of weather-stained feet materialize and I am forced to hide my squeak as I realize that these are none other than the feet of Traitor-beard and Twinkletoes.

What did I do to get rack up such bad karma points today? It's not like I _wanted_ to scalp that maid, it sort of just happened! I can hardly be blamed for developing battle skills when they put me under constant threat for most of the year.

"How do you fare my friend?" Aragorn's voice wafts down to me like a really annoying tendril of smoke as I seriously contemplate burning myself alive.

Part of me is thankful that Legolas answers in Sindarin, because I don't think I could have handled his answer, whatever it might have been, but the bigger part wishes that he had answered in a language I could understand.

I know, I know. It's the masochistic side of my brain.

The structure of the tables in the library prevent me from crawling off into a secluded alcove and onwards into freedom, because if I so much as moved an inch, I'd be found. Thus, I remain in my seat, grumbling silently about my poor choice in hiding places, not really paying attention to the conversation being carried out above me until a deep, mournful sigh escapes from Legolas' lips. "Amin mela he."

Wait, wait. I know that don't I?

Amin is I and he is her; what does mela mean?

Bugger, bugger, bugger. I don't know what that means.

"Amin sinta." Aragorn answers. Legolas lets out a disbelieving scoff.

"Il'quen sinta, mellonamin?" he asks, softly. I have to strain to hear him, and consequently get too close to my candle and end up with a burn.

And a bump on my head from saying hello to the table.

"_Sam_?" Aragorn pulls me up, blowing my candle out as he did so.

"Uh, hi um—King Elessar." I say as brightly as I can, even though I cannot, absolutely cannot, meet any of their eyes. I refrain from commenting on the weather or the quality and value of the grit of the white stones to avoid adding even more awkwardness to the situation.

Growing up, aren't I?

"Pray tell, what were you doing under the table?" the King asks, and even though I can't see his face, I can tell that he's smirking.

"I was examining the tiles." I fib. "And er—reading a book. Interesting things, these old wives' tales."

"Reading," he says dubiously. "Under a table?"

"When in Rome do as the Romans do." I answer, finally lifting my face and giving him a wide grin. "Don't worry bucko, whatever you and Twinkletoes were talking about, it's safe. I understood nothing."

I give him a salute and run straight outta there like a bat out of hell.

OoO

Aside from that little misadventure in the library, which will probably serve to deter me from going in there for at least a week, the rest of my day was thoroughly uneventful. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, watching Erothon make white cakes.

He tells me stories as he works, his great, big hands kneading the bread expertly as he told me about the rich history of the kingdom and I sit there, completely engrossed.

I don't even notice Haldir walk in until he was peeping exaggeratedly under the tables. "Mustn't be too careful," he says winking at me. I feel my cheeks begin to color. "You can never tell who might be concealed under the dark shadows of tables, eavesdropping upon conversations until it is too late."

I throw a fork at him.

He dodges.

Damn elvish reflexes.

Erothon bows and offers Hal some food, which he politely refuses. I turn to glare at him as he extracts the fork from the wood of the floor. "If he weren't so important, I'd throttle him right now." I tell him, referring to the Kingly Ranger Dude. "I can handle him telling my brothers, but _you_?"

He puts a hand over his heart and shoots me a mournful look. "Oh, you wound me, my Lady."

"I'd do a lot more than that if you wouldn't take me down easier than an orc." I snipe, making a face at him. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?"

He smirks and shakes his head.

Figures.

He sits down next to me and I put my head in my hands. "I need to stop racking up all these bad karma points." I mutter into the table. "You think maybe I should adopt an orphan?"

**a/n: SOOO much love goes out to those who review. You all rock.**


	35. Haldir is a pest

a/n: YAY, I ACTUALLY UPDATED IN A SEMI-DECENT TIME PERIOD!

**Chapter 35: Haldir is a pest.**

**-Haldir-**

Ai, Elbereth sometimes I feel Samantha has indeed 'gone off the deep end' as she would say, and there is no hope of her safe return. Her penchant for saying such outlandish things has not disappeared over time and it still boggles me overmuch, just as it has always done from the very beginning of our strange and unlikely friendship. However, let it not be said that Haldir of Lorien makes the same mistake twice, so I let it slip by without comment.

There are some things that even _I_ cannot go head-to-head with.

Her face is suddenly mournful as she lays it upon the table, and I wonder if perhaps my jibes had been a little too much. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" her answer is muffled, and she does not make an effort to meet my eyes.

"Is anything amiss?" I ask gently.

"No," she answers quickly, too quickly. "No, I'm fine, don't worry."

I raise an eyebrow at this but say nothing, instead I take her hand and pull her out of her seat. "Come," I say. "I believe some fresh air would do you good."

She smiles and shakes her head, and for a brief moment I fear she is about to deny me, but the moment passes and she grabs a few apples and follows me to the door.

"Thanks for the stories and the cakes, Erothon." She calls pleasantly back to the Head Cook of the Gondorian Kitchens and then bounds out of the door.

"Anytime, my lass." The large man answers, and I smile politely as I close the door. Sam really has a way of endearing herself to people.

"Where are we going?" she asks me as we make our way out of the stone hallways and out into the courtyard.

The wind blows, cool and sweet as I lead her towards the garden, eager to surround myself with trees. I have been away from the Golden Wood for too long.

She smiles as I peer up into the branches of a tall tree and contemplate climbing into its eaves. "You miss Lothlorien, don't you?" she asks, leaning against the tree trunk.

"Quite." I nod, smiling wistfully. "It has been a while."

"You're going back soon, aren't you?" her expression is mild but the sadness in her tone is apparent, although perhaps she does not know it. "I have a tendency of disappearing when the talk of departures start but even I haven't been able to avoid the fact that you're all leaving soon."

"Aye." Is all I can say. I cannot deny the truth. She heaves a sigh and tosses an apple into the air.

"Eomer's coming back at the end of the week, isn't he?" she inquires. I nod. "He's taking Theoden, King's remains and then he and Eowyn are going back to Rohan to get ready for her wedding to Faramir."

I nod once more, waiting for her to finish her recitation of the itinerary that had been given to us two days prior. There is a certain bitterness to her tone, and I wonder if she will voice her concerns at the end of her diatribe. She has always been one to speak her mind, but I have come to notice that she is also an expert in saying everything but conveying nothing at all.

"Aragorn's going to have the court escort them until the border, before going back to Minas Tirith. The hobbits are going back to the Shire as well, and the Rangers are heading back North to Eriador. I've heard talk amongst the elves of making their return journey to Imladris and Lothlorien on the same day."

"That is correct." I confirm, leaning on the tree next to her. "Our hearts long for our own. Minas Tirith is a beautiful city but it is, and always will be, the home of men."

"I know." Her voice is small as she acknowledges this. "I'm being selfish, I suppose. I just don't want to say goodbye just yet. So many friends are leaving; friends that are the only people I've known since I came here." She pauses, weighing her words before continuing. "The ladies of the court think I'm either an oddity or a disgrace. And why shouldn't they? I disagree with most of their practices and I'm more soldier than noble woman." She juts out her chin, as if daring me to contradict her words. "I'm not saying I need anyone to protect me, I'm more than able to fend for myself. It's just disheartening to think of so many friendly faces leaving."

This piques my interest. "The ladies of the court have been saying ill things of you?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "No, they wouldn't _dare_, considering who my brothers are, but you can see it on their faces." She makes an expression of distaste that makes me laugh. I am aware of how difficult it must be to voice her fears like this.

"You're going to come back and visit though, aren't you?" she says suddenly, grabbing hold of my arm, the apple she was previously holding falls to the ground and rolls away into the darkness.

"Of course!" I assure her. "You would not be able to keep me away."

Her expression of distress relaxes and she smiles. "Good, because I would have marched over to Lorien and dragged you kicking and screaming, if need be."

I chuckled at this, not doubting her words. In all honesty, I find it disconcerting to have Samantha this open and vulnerable. While I am one of her more intimate friends, it has always been her brother or Legolas who was privy to her softer side.

We lapse into comfortable silence and I wonder, not for the first time, why things between her and Legolas had gone the way they did. It certainly was not due to lack of feelings on either part, for anyone with half a mind could discern how those two felt for each other, although they themselves were incapable of seeing it.

"Hey, Hal?" Sam is the first to break the silence. "What does Mendwe mean?"

Her tone is casual, as though the question was nothing more than something to satisfy her curiosity, an idle fancy, but I recall that day after the Battle for Helm's Deep when the word was made known to her. I recall the knowing look that passed Aragorn's face when he heard. "It is an endearment, little one." I tell her, deciding that causing her distress at the point would be pointless and cruel. "It means, "love of mine" in the common tongue."

"Oh," is all she says and I try, with difficulty, to gauge her reaction. A surprise, since Sam has always been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. I wait for her to inquire about the plans of a more specific ellon, or even just a passing query as to his well being, but her eyes remain skyward, expression clouded. Silence pervades between us, something of a novelty where she is concerned, since she has always been one who could rival even young Peregrin's energy when it comes to talking.

I sigh and tilt my head back, finding Earendil shining bright and resolute in the sky. "You are not even going to ask?"

She looks back at me, eyes wide like a deer about to be shot. "WHAT?"

"You have no wish to know what Legolas and Gimli are planning?" my tone is causal, and my eyes have not left my people's favorite star, but I can feel her floundering. She had not expected the sudden turn of conversation. "Their roads lie together for many miles yet." I continue. "First to the glittering caves of Helm's Deep, then to Fangorn."

"I don't—what do you even…gah!" she throws up her hands in the air in exasperation. "Why are you telling me this?" she demands.

I shrug my shoulders, unable to keep the smirk at bay. "They will be gone for a long time, by mortal standards, especially by _your_ watch, little one. Eight moons at the very least."

Her expression is surly but I shoulder on. "It would do to make your peace with him before he ventures forth. The fellowship may be broken, but is your friendship to take the same route?"

"You know what?" she snaps. "I liked it better when you thought the world was a big joke that was at everyone's expense but yours."

I smirk. "I do, but you are a friend, little one, and I feel it my civic duty to steer you towards the correct path." A heartbeat passes. "Would it _truly _be such a difficult thing to make amends?"

She answers me with a glare and mutters something rude under her breath. "I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole." She declares, pushing herself off the trunk and walking angrily back inside.

I sigh and shake my head in exasperation.

OoO

**-Sam-**

I leave Haldir to be an annoying pest in the garden and proceed to my room, a scowl etched on my face.

How _dare_ he? I mean, sure, I can appreciate that he thinks he's being all Mr. Miyagi-like, giving unasked-for advice like this, but _really_? I mean what I said; things were _far_ simpler when everyone wasn't all up in my business. I am indeed aware of Legolas' and Gimli's plans. I did read the books after all and while I don't really like it, I know that I can deal with it. Questions are like nifflers, to make a random Harry Potter reference, they burrow until they find that little heap of gold you've been trying to cover up and never return it.

And while I can admit that Hal may (_may_, okay?) have a point, could I really do it? Legolas and I have barely exchanged pleasantries after the incident. Can I really just forget about skipping out on him and telling him he was an idiot for wanting to be with me? More importantly, can _he_?

Alright, alright, the gap is largely due to my, shall we say talent? Yes, let's call it that; my talent for finding activities and sights to see that are in the complete opposite direction of everyone's favorite elf.

Gimli's already given me grief about it, don't worry. In fact, he's threatened to throw an axe at me if I don't stop behaving like a total—butterfly.

Before then, I had no idea the word butterfly could even be used as an insult, but believe me, Gimli pulled it off with flying colors.

"Ah, little sister." Faramir greets, stepping into my room with a grin, because the universe apparently thinks that I haven't been tortured enough for one day. "I had been wondering if mûmakil had perhaps gotten through the doors unheeded."

I flip him the finger.

"Now Sam, I am devoted to my betrothed, and you are as a sister to me, t'would not be appropriate." A pillow lands straight on his face for that one.

"You," I tell him, launching another one at his chest. "Are absolutely disgusting. You kiss Eowyn with that mouth?"

"I do many other things as well." He replies with a roguish grin.

"Okay, dirty brothers who give out too much information get thrown on their asses." I tell him, cringing as I push him out of my room. I smack him upside the head for good measure and glare. "You just _love_ torturing me, don't you?" He smirks and my mouth drops open in realization. "Oh, my God this is like all your birthdays rolled into one, isn't it? This, this is your way of getting your own back for all those years you had to endure Boromir's torture as the youngest, oh God, I _hate_ you!"

Except I don't, and he knows it. He swoops down and plants a kiss on my forehead. "That is how the House of Ecthelion operates, little sister. Get used to it."

OoO

Dinner that night is a pleasantly uneventful affair, which I am thankful for, after all the emotional torture of the day. I head out to the gardens again, something that has become something of a habit of mine. Something about the cool, crisp air and the sound of the rustling leaves deeply relaxes me.

Of course, the day wouldn't be complete without one last bout of torture, as clearly exhibited by Boromir appearing by my elbow. "Hullo, little sister."

"Hullo, big brother." I answer, trying to be pleasant. "What do you want?"

Oops, guess that didn't work out as well as I'd hoped.

"I am intruding on your brooding period, I know." He laughs, sitting down next to me. "But indulge me; I am here to perform a few brotherly duties."

I make a face at him. "Brotherly duties? Nothing good has come from those words, yet." I give him a look. "Hal blabbed, didn't he?"

He has the decency to look abashed. "He did."

I knew it.

"That sodding March Warden is such a sodding pest." I grumble, kicking at the grass. "I'm _fine_ and I'm sure he is too, and it's not something I have to ask about."

"You do not have to, no." he agrees, and I think that maybe for once he's on my side, regardless of logistics. "But you _should_. You let your stubbornness cloud your senses too much."

Clearly, I was wrong.

I snort at him. "_You're_ talking to me about stubbornness? Really?"

He frowns at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

This genuinely makes me laugh. "Boromir, I love you, but the pot can't go around calling the kettle black. The kettle bites."

His frown deepens. "Do you know, no one knows what you are saying half the time?"

I grin. "I know, I like it that way. Makes for more interesting conversation."

He shakes his head at me and takes a deep breath. "Have a care, Sam. Talk to him, make amends, you have been good friends thus far."

I refrain from giving an answer, and silence falls. I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh wearily. We _had_ been good friends, but how do you go back to that, after all of this?

"All shall be sorted out." He murmurs, putting an arm around my shoulders.

Why do I have to have such a traitorous mouth?

a/n: Yo, peeps! Remember the purple button? It's your friend, and the key to mine happiness. Right, peace out.


	36. Two more lonely people

**a/n: I apologize for the delay. Writer's block latched onto me like a leech and wouldn't let go. **

**Chapter 36: Two more lonely people.**

**-Sam-**

"Forgive me for saying so Sam, but you are _clearly_ deranged." I look up to see no one else but my favorite King towering over me.

I make a face at him from where I'm sitting, playing with make-shift toy soldiers. "High praise, your highness." I comment dryly. "I thank you for your kind words."

No, really, I like how he said that in a tone that left no room for contradiction.

He lets out a laugh and sits down across from me, royal robes and all, in the dirt and grass.

I stare.

Aragorn has never once sought out my company like this. It is a fact of life; I've always thought that I was too childish for him, and I wouldn't blame him considering I _am_ ten kinds of crazy with a spoonful of random to boot.

Clearly my feelings are quite evident because he chuckles and snatches one of my soldiers.

Well, to be honest they weren't so much soldiers, as little twigs I'd formed into stick figures using wire and various oddments.

"Oi, you're holding my general upside-down, Aragorn." I tell him, reverting back to a name I realize, a few seconds too late, I shouldn't have called him. "I mean, Elessar, sorry."

He shakes his head and raises a hand. "Nay, there is nothing to forgive, little one. You have done no wrong thing."

I look at him, confused. "Isn't it considered disrespectful of me to call you that?"

"Perhaps." He agrees, looking thoughtful. "But crown or not, I will always be Aragorn, Son of Arathorn"

"Brave, quiet, broody and a bit of a know-it-all?" I joke playfully, scrunching my nose up at him.

His eyebrows rise in that way that reminds you that he grew up in the house of Elrond, and gives me a look. "Disrespectful, you say?" I smile innocently at him and he shrugs. "But essentially, yes."

I have to say that seeing the change in him sends me into a fit of unparalleled joy. He used to be so grim and terrible to behold, and I suppose, in a sense he still is, but there is happiness there now, and love so deep, it shakes me to my very foundations, just sitting here and looking into his eyes.

"What in Arda's name are you two doing?" an elven voice demands to know, from somewhere to our left. I don't bother looking up because I can already tell who it is from Aragorn's smile.

Yes, they are _that_ in love. I would be sickened if I didn't ship them so hardcore.

"Well, I was _trying_ to win a war, but the King has my General by the ankle." I say by way of explanation as I stick my tongue out at my King.

"I doubt his return would help you much, he is skinnier than a twig." Aragorn shoots back, sounding superbly disdainful. "I would be surprised if he could even lift a sword."

I snatch my toy away. "Oi, no bad-mouthing General Boom-bottom. I won't hear of it!"

"General Boom-bottom?" Arwen repeats, eyebrow rising.

I clear my throat and smooth my hair back. "Yes, General Boom-bottom, that's his name. Anyway, correct me if I'm mistaken, but I assume there's a reason my King and Queen are sitting in the grass with me, aside from a leisurely walk to the gardens."

They seem surprised at this and I wonder briefly if I should be insulted that no one thinks me capable of being insightful enough to know when I'm being played. "Oh, c'mon you two, 'fess up. What's going on?"

The two of them exchange a glance, one of those deep, soulful looks that convey volumes, the one poets and writers love to write about. Finally, Arwen takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "We worry for you, Sam."

Haldir is _so_ dead. I am going to break his face. As well as a few other choice parts. "I assure you, there's absolutely nothing to worry about; I'm perfectly fine."

This announcement takes a while to sink in.

"We shall take your word for it." Aragorn says, his tone dubious, and I make a mental note to research if hitting the King upside the head for being an impudent jerk is grounds for treason. He clears his throat again, signaling that this little powwow isn't over and I close my eyes and heave a sigh. "Sam, do you have any intention to talk to Legolas?"

Well, sure. When I'm 97 and on my deathbed.

A smile tugs at the corners of Arwen's lips. "We had thought you had better do it a little sooner than that."

I let out a huff of air and shake my head. "If I talk to him, will all of you get off my case?" I demand.

There isn't even a need for words because Aragorn's smug smile is answer enough.

Bollocks.

OoO

Obviously, the thing to do when you're supposed to find the object of your affections and discuss awkwardness is to find a few friends and go mushroom-hunting. _Obviously._

At least, this is what _I'm_ doing, and if I'm not the leading authority on dysfunctional methods of distraction in Minas Tirith, then I don't know who is.

"You know, Merry, I really don't know why we're looking for mushrooms out here in the bright sunshine." I inform the nearest of my companions as I heft the big, wicker basket they had commandeered from a washer woman. "We should be looking in _moist _places, like near ponds or...I dunno Gimli's socks."

Pippin lets out a heavy snort at this and promptly receives a thwack on the head from Merry. "What, what? She's right!" he cries out indignantly, hopping away from the older hobbit.

I nod fondly at him. "See, I always said he was the smartest of you lot."

"We are here, my lady," Frodo finally intervenes before anyone comes to blows, and by anyone, I do mean me and Merry. "Because we had thought it best to get you out of Minas Tirith before you…what is the term you use? 'Completely flip out' and spear everyone upon your sword."

Ai, but it is _weird_ hearing hobbits use modern slang.

"Besides," Sam pipes up, trudging cheerfully through the grass. "We've already got the mushrooms, haven't we Mr. Frodo?"

I frown at this and take the time to pause and check my luggage. Sure enough, it's filled to the brim with mushrooms, and I feel decidedly stupid for not noticing anything to that effect during the walk from the seventh ring to the fields.

"I cannot believe I got played like this." I grumble, running after them. I dump the basket unceremoniously on the ground, and plop down in a heap. "Keiko can't spear _everyone_," I tell Frodo with just a mild hint of indignation. "Maybe just the Shire-folk."

All four of the hobbits sit up at this. "Was that a _threat_?"

I smirk at them, putting my hands under my head and watching a tuft of cloud float lazily by. "A tiny bit, yeah."

"Well, we can't have that." Merry declares, standing up and before I know it, I have a Rohirric guard on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

It all goes downhill from there, and I'm pretty sure, the only sounds that can be heard from a mile off are our screams and giggles as we tussle about.

Ai, but it's good to be happy.

OoO

Happiness is such a fleeting bitch. Is it really so much to ask that it stay on my shoulder for a little longer than twenty-four hours?

Before you ask, yes, I am being melodramatic. Today is going to be filled with endless hours of packing for the two-week journey to the borders of Rohan and I am not best pleased.

I think people have noticed because I've found myself on my own again, shoving bread into food sacks and running through a tally of needed supplies in my head.

The door creaks open behind me, and I turn slightly to look over my shoulder.

Oh, brilliant. His Reluctant Highness, that's just what I need.

"All is well in here, I presume?" he asks. I wave a hand at him, 'yes' and hope that that's the end of it. Clearly it isn't, because he walks in and points out that the fruit baskets were still insufficient. I button my lips to keep from saying something rude, and attend to the task as Aragorn just stands there, giving me a look.

Why, I ask you, did he have to be raised in Rivendell? It's not fair to other mortals how he can do the whole Elvish Facial Expression thing. I can feel his eyes boring into my brain, and he's disappointed because I _still_ haven't spoken to Legolas and sweet shoestrings, he is _good_.

Poor Eldarion.

**

"Alright, stop it!" I finally scream after five minutes of being under his stare. I couldn't do it anymore, okay? Damn Ranger is going to be the death of me.

His face rearranges itself to one of utter innocence and I stare in awe. Bloody hell, is he good. "Pardon?"

"Stop with the guilt, okay?" I poke a finger into his shoulder. "It's driving me crazy!"

"My Lady, I assure you, I know not of what you speak."

My glare intensifies. I fold my arms across my chest and stamp my foot like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. Snipes about how this is a fitting self-assessment will not be entertained, so shut your traps. I am tempted to ask what he wants from me, but I'm pretty sure I know the answer. Half the bloody castle knows the bloody answer.

Damn King.

"Do not even try." I snarl, digging a finger into his ribcage. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about and I need you to stop _pressuring_ me before I turn into Krakatoa and just _pop_, okay?"

He resumes the staring.

Fuck my life.

Can I just say that I had full intention of talking to Legolas just like I'd told him, and the packing sort of just got in the way?

No? well, it was worth a shot. I don't even really understand what the big deal is; I'm a woman f my word, and when I said I'd talk to the blasted elf before my ninetieth birthday, I was telling the truth.

I had actually been planning on talking to him the day directly before they left the encampment.

For…emotional preparation. Er.

However, it is clear that my king has other ideas. He does the Elrondion eyebrow thing, not to be mistaken for the generally used elven technique of raising eyebrows and making you feel like gum stuck to an important person's shoe. No, this one is the upgraded version.

The one that Aragorn knows will infuriate me to no end. Which it does. Thus explaining why I am now halfway through the castle, muttering death threats none-too-quietly and basically causing a massive ruckus.

Until I arrive at his door, and then the anger just whooshes right out of me. Now, how is that fair, I ask you? I needed that anger; all that anger meant I could actually _talk_ without turning into a big glop of jelly.

"What am I doing?" I ask myself out loud, a mistake that I have often made and will probably continue to make until long after I'm dead.

"How amusing," a voice behind me says, not sounding amused at all. "I was wondering the same thing."

I feel my breath catch and I turn around to face him.

"Legolas.' I breathe, offering a small, awkward smile. A first stab at a peace offering. "Hi."

He leans back on the wall and crosses his arms. He looks tired and pale, and I have to bite my lip to keep from asking why, like I usually would. I refrain from asking him where he's been and more importantly _how_ he's been, like I shoud be doing, because clearly, I am a dolt.

Instead, I say, "Fleas are weird creatures, aren't they?"

Bloody hell, sometimes I find it astounding that I still exist.

**a/n: Look, it's the purple button!**


	37. By moon and starlight

**a/n: Love me, feedback for me, never leave me?**

**Chapter 37: By moon and starlight**

**-Sam-**

Fleas are freaking weird creatures?! Seriously??

Oh my god, I should have just let Carmi gut me ages ago. It would have saved me all the trauma that I am very clearly going to get from this little tête-à-tête. I could have gone down fighting, and with dignity, but no, I get to die from abject humiliation. How very glorious.

I wait for the inevitable eye-roll or exasperated sigh, but it doesn't come.

Bugger.

I stare at him and open my mouth to say something, anything to stem the flow of painful, gut-wrenching awkwardness between us, but I can't. So I close my mouth and look at the floor, in the hopes that it'll somehow tell me what I'm supposed to do to make this all go away. I'm a little out of my depth here. I'm not used to being met by cold, stony silence. At least, not from Legolas. It's just...not the way things roll. Legolas always has a reaction, whatever insane antic I pull, he always has something to say and his silence shakes me to my core.

"Hey, so I was in the neighborhood right? And I was thinking to myself, 'I haven't seen my good friend Twinkletoes in a while, I wonder how he's doing?' so I figured I'd come by and see how you were...y'know doing." Oh my giddy aunt, why am I still talking? I am met by, if possible, even stonier silence. We all know what my reflexive reaction to silence is, don't we kids? Oh boy. "It wasn't until I reached your door that I realized that the reason I didn't know how you were doing was because…"

"Sam," he massages the bridge of his nose in a defeated manner. "What are you doing?"

This elicits a shrug from me. Hell if I knew the answer to that question, we wouldn't be standing here like dolts. "I don't know." I answer honestly. "I just-Aragorn wanted me to talk to you, before you left."

Shoot me now.

"Oddly enough, that does not surprise me." He tells me, leaning back on the wall and folding his arms across his chest. He regards me briefly before continuing. "You are not known for your skill at handling awkward confrontations, and Elessar, on his part, is renowned for his fondness of meddling with other people's lives."

Right, okay, I deserved that. And now he thinks I don't even have the guts to come here and talk to him of my own volition.

"I actually didn't want to talk to you, to be honest." Oh sweet lord Sam, _stop talking._ "I knew the last thing you'd want to see is my face, but I wanted to apologize. I at least, owed you that much."

His blue eyes are as cold and hard as Caradhras and I have to take a minute to rein in the overwhelming urge to shout at him and tell him to stop being an asshole.

How could I, when I was an asshole first?

"I'm sorry, for everything." I shoulder on. "I know you may not think that's worth much, but please know that I mean it. I was cruel and a bitch and I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm not asking you to accept my apology or anything like that; I just thought you should know that I'm sorry and that I miss you, however much you might hate my guts right now."

He nods at me, a small, bleak gesture that told me my apology was accepted. "I do not hate you, Sam." He says quietly. "I do not believe I ever can."

OoO

In our thundering herd, we feel a lot like cattle.

There are times when I _love_ Disney, and then there are times like this when I want to randomly burst into song, that I feel that it's completely ruined me for life. Granted, 'A girl worth fighting for' isn't used in the proper context here but the point still stands.

I actually _do_ feel like I'm a bovine being harshly marched into pasture. Why yes, it _is_ absurdly early in the morning, why do you ask? I really don't think anyone should be surprised that I am grumbly and unfit for human association, since it should be a well established fact that I don't start properly functioning until after lunch. Second luncheon if we're going by hobbit standards.

"You really need to work on being a morning person." Someone from the vicinity of my hip tells me thickly. I look down and see Pippin trying to speak through a large bun. I resist the urge to laugh. I fail.

"Mornings would be better," I tell him disdainfully as we march along the grassy slopes. "If they occurred in the afternoon, or just stopped existing altogether."

"That is the most inane thing I've heard in my entire life." He declares, pulling a face.

"So?"

He gets this look that tells me he's contemplating kicking some sense into me, and then decides against it and shrugs like I'm not even worth the effort. Yes, Peregrin Took thinks I'm so batshit that he doesn't even believe I'm worth kicking a modicum of sense into.

Awesome.

OoO

Oh dinner, you are the sweetest part of my day.

We've made good time. It'll probably take us a week tops to get to the gap of Rohan, which means a week tops to say my goodbyes to all the friends I've made. It's sad, I know, but it must be done.

I'm not even going to think about what's waiting for me back in Minas Tirith. Which is, basically, a big hunk of nothing. I'm trying this new thing, you see, where I try not to make my life seem bleaker than it is.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

The hobbits are already at the very front of the line, their bowls held towards Erothon who is looking at them in amusement. I take a seat by the fire and put my face in my hands, willing to wait until the little people are done getting nourishment. They're gonna be a while, so I might as well get comfortable.

"Hullo, broody." A bowl of food materializes in front of me.

"Hello, bowl of food. How'd you get way over here?" I ask it cheerfully. The person who proffered the bowl huffs indignantly and I look up to find Baerlad towering above me, with a friend in tow. Baerlad is one of the more unfortunate rangers who fate always seems to throw me together with. I nearly bit his head off while he helped out in the kitchens on the corsair ships, and we defended each other pretty well during the Battle of the Black Gate.

"Of course the bowl of food would get a greeting." He complains sullenly sitting down on a log a little ways away.

I grin at this. "Well, hello to you too, Baerlad." I snatch the bowl from him. He did offer, after all. This seems to make him happy, and I roll my eyes. My gaze shifts from him to his still standing friend and I quirk a curious eyebrow. "Who's your friend?"

Baerlad turns and regards his friend in a way that makes me wonder if he's even aware he'd brought someone, and then smiles. "My Lady, this is my friend Alared, son of Alagonthur."

I wave and smile. "Nice to meet you Alared, my name is Sam."

He takes the seat right next to mine, making me blink in surprise at his forwardness. The men here are usually so reserved, and I've gotten used to being treated at arms' length, whether because I'm a woman and I make them nervous, or because I'm a woman and must be treated accordingly.

"Baerlad says you were among those who fought during at the Black Gate." He states, his expression clearly unconvinced. "Does he speak the truth?"

I look over at Baerlad who shrugs and shakes his head in apology for his friend's behavior. "I was there, yes." I answer curtly, turning to my food. I hope he gets the message and realizes that I have no further intention of talking to him, but alas, today is not my day.

"Why were you there?" he demands, the indignation barely hidden. "War is not the place of women, is it?"

I can't believe I've gone through all that war and bullshit and I _still_ have to contend with assholes like this. Jesus, can't a girl catch a break?

I clear my throat and lower the bowl to the ground. I turn towards Alared, taking in his long, dark hair and his aquiline nose and full, rosy lips. He looked to be only a little older than I was, which made this both more annoying and more understandable. I smiled sweetly at him, ignoring the way Baerlad shook his head in the background. "Stupidity is the province of men, isn't it? Tell me Alared, did you fight in the last war?"

He sort of shrinks into himself at this. "No, I was in the Houses of Healing, nursing a broken arm." He puffs out his chest and adds, defensively. "But I was present during the siege of Pelennor!"

I roll my eyes, visibly. It makes him turn an alarming shade of red. "Sure you were." I say with a non-committal shrug. "Either way, you've got no grounds to belittle my gender when I was in both of those battles and probably killed more baddies than you've seen in your entire life."

He opens his mouth to say something more, but Baerlad claps him on the shoulder and tugs him away. "Enough, Alared; give the lady some space. You have overstepped your bounds." He says looking superbly disdainful.

I grin at him. "Apologize. Now."

"My sincerest apologies, milady." He bites out, not looking very sincere at all. My smile is still sweet as sugar as I look at him.

"No big deal." I answer trying to be gracious, but it still slips out. "Oh, by the way, you suck."

Baerlad has enough sense to pull him away before he works out the possible meaning of my words. People are learning. Hallelujah.

OoO

The tent-building process is such a fascinating thing. It's like clockwork; the food goes down and the tents go up. People start busting out the ale and songs are sung. It's absolutely amazing and rustic and just…_wow._

I am sitting by the fire, just about ready to turn in for the night when a hand taps me on the shoulder and I look up to see an Elrondion beaming down at me. "Hi." I greet enthusiastically, making my way to my feet.

"Walk with me, little one." He invites, offering an arm. "The stars are shining exceptionally bright tonight."

Elrohir. This is Elrohir. Elladan would have made a lewd sexual joke before going sentimental.

I take Elrohir's arm and we make our way out into the night, away from the encampment. The sound of music and merry-making strains after us, and a smile is on my lips as I look up at the sky. "You're right; the stars do look beautiful tonight." I agree, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Aye, Earendil shines proudly upon us all." He leads me over to a large boulder and clambers on top of it. He regards me seriously, the moonlight shining off of his beautiful face. "Haldir has informed us of your ill mood of late, little one. We have been quite worried."

I frown at this. Once again, Hal's meddling has put me in an uncomfortable position. I am seriously going to cause him some serious, grievous harm if this doesn't let up.

"I'm fine, Elrohir." I say, feeling like a broken record. "I'm just a little sad because a lot of friends are leaving, and I won't see them for a long time. That's it, I swear. I've made peace with Legolas and I assure you, I'm perfectly alright."

"Are you really?" he asks, sliding down from the rock to look me in the eye. I would punch him if he weren't you know…Elrohir.

I let out a frustrated groan. I am just about to rip into Elrohir when a rustling sounds from somewhere on the other side of the rock and we both turn to investigate.

Elladan comes forward, a devilish grin on his face. "Well, hello Sam! Fancy running into you out here, in the wilderness where anything can happen; a curious happenstance, no?"

I stare at him like he's insane. "Elladan, didn't I tell you not to cut into the sugar without me?"

He laughs jovially. "Oh no, this is not me on sugar, by any means, little one."

A heady feeling of dread starts to come over me, as I look from Elladan to Elrohir who has left my side to stand by his twin, both of them bearing identical grins of pure, unadulterated evil.

"Right." I say, holding up two hands and backing away from the two peredhil slowly. When encountering wild, crazy animals, it's best to make no sudden movements. "I think I've had enough starlight for one night, so I'm just going to head back to camp and hit the hay."

They step closer. Crap. My back-away-slowly plan isn't working. "Right, okay, see you!" I shout making a break for it.

I haven't even reached five feet before Elladan's got me by the waist and Elrohir has me in a leg-lock. Son of a bitch. "What the _hell_, you guys?" I scream, trying to flail out a limb in a kick. Elladan responds by tickling me and together, they bring me to a tent.

I am so confused, I am seriously contemplating breaking their faces. "I am _so_ going to get back at you for this." I seethe as I am thrown into the tent.

"One day, you shall thank us, _ai er._" Elladan says smugly. "Both of you."

With that, I am left in a tent in the middle of the wilderness with the one and only Twinkletoes.

Fuck my life.

**a/n: I apologize for the delay. I've had this written for like a month but my laptop died and I just managed to resurrect it long enough to retrieve my documents. So yeah, ilu guys, review?**


	38. Many Partings

**a/n: LOOK, AN UPDATE IN A DECENT TIMESPAN!**

**Chapter 38: Many Partings**

-Sam-

I know I couldn't have gotten away with murdering them during the course of the books but they weren't mentioned very much _after_ the story was finished, right? Well, maybe there's a reason for that. Maybe mention of the twins dwindled because _I killed them dead._

No? Fine. Screw you.

"Are you going to do nothing but sulk all night?" Legolas asks, looking at me tiredly from his seat at the other end of the tent.

I know the tent is all of five feet wide, but that doesn't mean I can't still avoid him. Yes, that's right, I am _that_ skilled at avoiding unpleasant things. Avoidance, thy name is Samantha.

Anyway. "If it gets them to come back and let us out, then sure." I answer with a shrug. "I don't see what harm it'd do, and by the way, why are you talking to me?"

The question catches him off-guard and he fixes his piercing blue stare on me. I resist the urge to throw my shoe at him to make him stop because y'know, it's not generally considered in good faith to throw one's footwear at elven royalty. "What do you mean?"

What the hell do you think I mean, Twinkletoes? I ripped your heart out and stomped on it in army-issue cleats. I'm not supposed to be your favorite person in the world right now. Hell, _I'm_ not my favorite person in the world right now.

"Sam, I thought I had made it clear the other day," he sighed, rubbing his temple wearily. "I do _not_ hate you."

Fucking traitor of a fucking mouth. Since I'd made a jackass of myself already, I figured, why not just roll with it, so I blurt out, "Sure, that's what you said, but just because you say something doesn't mean you actually mean it. You can't possibly not hate me after what I did."

He lets out an irritated growl that sends my insides all a-flutter and glares at me. "Do you _wish_ for me to hate you?"

I stare at him like he's crazy. "No, of _course_ not! Are you _insane_?"

He gives me a look that says plain as day, 'Of course I am, I'm in love with _you_, aren't I?' which I honestly find really rather rude. There was really no need for such rudeness and I give him a dirty look to retaliate.

"What do you think they want to achieve by locking us in here, though?" I ask after we've lapsed into silence. The canvas of the tent is thick and strong, and I didn't think to bring any weapons for a walk in the moonlight with who I thought was a trustworthy elf. The entry flaps are cinched tightly together by _hithlain_, because these are _elves_ and of fucking course they would use their stupid rope that's known for knots that are hard to undo.

I swear, I am going to murder those two and whoever else was in on this plan. Oh yes, I'm aware that there were co-conspirators and I will slit their throats in their sleep when we get out of here. I actually can't believe that I fell for this stupid ploy. Speaking of which. "How did they catch _you_?" I ask Legolas, curiosity practically bursting me at the seams. "I mean, I understand _my_ capture, since I'm well...me, but you?"

Oooh, he's turning pink! This should be good. His lip twitches and for a second I think he's going to smile or laugh, but then I realize that he's actually grinding his teeth together in annoyance.

"You know that gnashing your teeth like that is bad for you, right?" I supply helpfully, grin in check. Yes, I am well aware that I'm 'absolutely bloody infuriating'. Just ask Boromir, he'll use the same words. Repeatedly. "So, how'd they bag you?"

He mumbles something in a low voice and I inch closer, straining to hear. "What was that?" I squawk in the most annoying way possible. "We're not all elves here you know. Speak up!"

I squash down a giggle as he glares darkly at the canopy and takes a deep breath.

"I _said_, I was caught unawares and rendered unconscious." his teeth are gritted and I am seriously enjoying riling him up far too much.

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "By whom, exactly?"

What? It's a valid question!

He remains tight-lipped and stares stonily at the floor. Oho, so that's how you wanna play it, eh? Well then, fine. I push myself onto my haunches and slowly make my way over, settling in beside him. He gives me a long, calculating look before closing his eyes and heaving a tired sigh. I blow gently on his ear, sending shivers through him.

"It was Arwen, you manipulative shrew." he says in a strangled voice, eyes still closed.

I stare at him until he turns to look at me, no doubt to see if I was still alive and not...I dunno dead from shock or something, and I start laughing. I'm sorry but the image of Twinkletoes getting his ass handed to him by the Evenstar is just hilarious to me. If I were an emoticon, I'd be colon, double parentheses.

Wow.

"Are you finished?" he asks irritably after I've calmed down somewhat. Poor baby's put out.

"Do you know, this is the most we've spoken in about a month?" I ask hit with the sudden realization.

He smiles wryly. "I believe that is what they wanted, melethnin."

Oh. _Oh._

"I miss you, you know." I tell him with a sigh. I just wish we could go back to the way things were before. Before all the drama and the feelings and the sex and the avoidance messed it all up, Legolas and I made a pretty good team. He balanced out my crazy and I made him less of a prissy grouch because trust me, that is like Legolas Default Setting No. 3.

Now things are just screwed up and awkward and by the gods, you have no idea how much it _sucks_. Legolas sighs in agreement and snakes his hand around my waist. His grip is tentative, as if he's afraid I'll recoil and punch him, so I eliminate his doubt and lean into his touch. He rests his head against mine and pulls me closer. "Do you ever sometimes wish that things had turned out differently? Like maybe that we'd never come here, or Tasha had stayed instead of me? Or that you'd just left me and her in Lorien and been spared all this?"

His voice is soft and low in my ear when he responds, "No, never. I do not know where we go from here, but I will say this: my life before the War of the Ring was quiet and quaint until you came blundering into it like an irate mumakil, and I have found that I actually quite like the noise."

That's so s--"Did you just compare me to a stinky old mumakil?"

OoO

Sunlight! Oh, how sweet your warmth!

..not that I needed it much since Legolas is a very effective space blanket. I know, I know, that totally got your attention, didn't it? Get your minds out of the gutter though, we didn't do what you think we did. We were in a _tent_ for goodness' sake! And we couldn't be sure there weren't people outside, sly grins in hand waiting for that very thing to happen. I swear, at one point during the night I could hear the beginning strains of 'Careless Whisper' playing.

Well, alright, maybe that was just me being crazy.

So anyway, since our captors weren't kind enough to provide us with blankets, Legolas and I had to sleep in each other's arms to keep from freezing to death. The night spent in solitary confinement has been good for us, I'll admit to that, and the twins may have had valid points. We were able to talk, get the awkwardness out of the way and while it _isn't_ like before, it's as close as we're going to get, and I'm willing to take it. He told me about his plans with Gimli, about how they're going first to Fangorn and then to the glittering caves of Helm's Deep, just like they'd promised each other. I asked him if he was going to go home, to Lasgalen, and his eyes got this faraway look in them and he said yes, because Gimli needed to experience Lasgalen properly. He started regaling me with tales of his homeland then, and I was content to listen to him tell his stories.

"Better?" Elladan asks cheerfully as he lets us out into the light of day. They've brought us breakfast and what looks to be a steaming pot of tea and they both have beaming, fatherly grins.

I can feel my insides twisting and I look to Legolas only to find his expression mirroring my own. I give him a curt nod, and we turn to the twins, simultaneously mouthing the same word ("Much.") and landing them both punches. He aimed for the face, and I aimed for the stomach, because let's face it, they're elves and I am always going to be diminutive compared to them.

After they've both recovered and Legolas and I had scarfed down all the food and tea, I bounced over to where they were and planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. "If you ever do that again, I am going to cut off all your hair, burn it in front of you and scatter the ashes to the four winds." I inform them, now much happier and cheerful, with a full stomach. "Nevertheless, I know you had good intentions so thank you."

One twin, Elrohir I think, rolls his eyes and pushes my hair out of my face. "Well worth it, ai er."

OoO

Oh god, oh _god_. I can see the Rohirric border. We're a day's march away and oh lord, I can't believe we're here already. Not fair, Middle earthian geography! I'm not ready to see people go yet! I thought we had a deal; you prolong the journey and I don't stomp on your surface demanding you open up and swallow me whole.

Cripes. This just proves that you can't trust tectonic plates one little bit.

"Sam, are you in here?" Light floods into the tent as Eowyn pokes her head in. Her eyes are sad and heavy and I can tell that she's been crying. I make my way towards her and take her hands in mine. She smiles and pulls me into a hug. "I have to escort my uncle's remains back to my country."

"What, _now_?" I gape, completely thrown off. I had been fully expecting having them around for another _day,_ Uncool.

"Eomer means to go ahead in order to fully prepare for Elessar's coming." she explains.

"Oh. Right." I nod absently, pushing my hair away from my face. "And how long will you stay in Rohan?"

She smiles softly at me. "Two months at the least. There is much to accomplish, the coronation, rebuilding much that was destroyed during the war...I cannot abandon my people in their time of need."

The thing about the first month after the war is that everything just felt so...peaceful that real life sort of got shoved under the eaves. I hadn't really thought about the damaged homes and ravaged places the battles had left behind because I was so busy feeling _relieved_ that all the darkness was over. And while I don't necessarily feel bad for taking some well earned recuperating time, this is a big jolt to reality.

"In any case, I merely wanted to bid you goodbye, for the time being, and to tell you that I shall miss you, sister-friend." she places a kiss on my forehead and beams. "Take care of yourself, won't you?"

OoO

I hate goodbyes.

No, really. I fucking hate goodbyes. If it were up to me, there would be no goodbyes _ever_, but it's not up to me and thus, our camp has been considerably lessened. The elves are all assembled and ready to leave and the King and Queen are giving their 'be careful along the way' speech.

I'm trying very hard not to sulk in the corner.

"That is a most unbecoming expression on you, little one." a voice at my shoulder informs me. I turn around to see Hal, looking happier than I've seen him in days.

"Glad to be going home?" I ask, pulling him into a hug.

"Ecstatic." he regards me seriously for a moment before jutting out a hand. "Farewell, my friend, until our next meeting."

"_Hal_." I snarl through gritted teeth. "What did I say about goodbyes?"

He makes a face at me, and I have to laugh because really, who would have thought I'd have any sort of influence on _elves_? "Must I?"

I adopt a serious expression. "Think about it, Marchwarden, you're not going to see me for who knows how long; this is the last hurrah. The final curtain call, the end--"

"Alright, alright." he interrupts, clamping a hand over my mouth. "See you later, alligator."

He withdraws his hand and leaves me grinning from ear-to-ear. I wander around, exchanging similar farewells to all the other elves that I know. Having them say goodbye in such modern fashion really takes the kick out of the parting and I mentally pat myself on the back for a job well done. What really takes the cake though, is hearing the twins say to their sister and the king, "See you later, buttmonkeys."

I actually fell over a rock at that one.

OoO

The hobbits aren't set to leave until after second breakfast, so after the elves have disappeared over the horizon, I set out to find them, my feet taking me straight to the cooking pavillion where surprise, surprise there they all are.

And by all, I mean the entire fellowship, bar one kind and plus one annoying brother.

"Ah look, 'tis our fair, female friend!" Merry cried using half a bun to toast me. I beam and make my way over, sitting down next to Boromir. The table is laid out with what looks like the supplies for the entire journey back and I can't help but laugh as Samwise hands me a plate laden with bacon and potatoes and ten kinds of grease just as Aragorn joins us.

"Just like old times, eh miss?" he smiles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I grin back and pop a strip into my mouth.

"Yeah, Sam. just like old times."

OoO

This is the hardest goodbye, I think. I traveled with these people across Arda, facing innumerable hardships and now we're all going our separate ways. Hobbiton is all the way on the other side of Middle Earth and I don't think anyone understands just how much I _love_ these nincompoops. It's kind of hard to wrap my head around the fact that I won't be going down to breakfast to see the Hobbit Brigade scarfing down food at lightning fast speeds. And then there's the added matter of Legolas' and Gimli's departure bogging me down.

I mean, I know they're all leaving and it can't be helped but I'll miss them hardcore and just _fuck_ goodbyes, man.

"If I don't receive constant letters from you four, I will personally come to the Shire and slap you upside the head, comprende?" Threats. They work like magic on hobbits.

"We'll miss you too, Sam." Pippin assures me, tugging me closer by the belt around my waist and the four of them engulf me in a tight hug. No, these are not tears in my eyes. Shut up.

"We shall visit soon, we promise." this from Frodo.

I ruffle his hair and hold back a sniff. "Not _too_ soon though, I want you guys to savor finally being home."

"Oh, we intend to." Samwise says firmly, and I don't doubt it. Oh, honey, I don't doubt it.

Gimli sidles up to me next, his eyes completely averted to the ground. "Well, come on then, lass. Let's get this over with." he lumbers, raising his arms wide in invitation.

You guys, is this what I think it is?

"Close yer mouth before ye swallow a fly." he snaps, tugging me down for a hug. Yes, Gimli son of Gloin is _hugging me_. He pats me on the back awkwardly before pulling away and fixing me with a stern gaze. "Now ye stay out of trouble while we're gone, d'you understand? No more exhibitions of daftness when yer main competitor is halfway across Arda traipsing around under leaves and bowers."

"Aye, aye, Gimli." I answer, beaming like a lunatic. "I'll miss you too. You be careful too, okay?"

He grunts a reply and walks over to where Legolas is busy grooming his horse. Pippin bounds over to give me one last kiss before heading over to their ponies, one Rohirric guard, one soldier of the White Tree, one former Ringbearer and his most trusted companion. Heroes of Middle Earth, off home.

"They will be alright." a warm voice assures me after the four little figures have disappeared into the landscape.

I chuckle and turn to the speaker. Legolas, as per usual. "I know. So will you."

His lips are turned up at the corners in a half smile. His hands snake around my waist and he pulls me close, his lips brushing across mine in a soft, feather-light kiss. "See you later, Sam." And then he's gone; clambering on his horse with Gimli, a smirk etched firmly on his lips. He kicks his horse into a gallop and spurs him onwards until they're almost out of sight, and then he rears back and waves.

He may be a fucking show off, but that was the best goodbye ever. I can't even make myself be mad.

I snake my arms around my brothers' shoulders and laugh as they steer me inside a tent. For now, life is good. The only question I have to ask myself now is, what the hell do I do now?

**a/n: guys I know I've been terrible but don't punish Sam for my misdeeds. I swear I'll be good and update faster and more regularly from now on. Come back to me and tell me what you thought of this. Please? Olay, cool.**


	39. On the road once more

**a/n: yes, your eyes do not deceive. I'm back!**

**Chapter 39: On the road once more.**

**-Sam-**

Oh my effing _god._ I don't think I've ever been this bored in my entire life. I've exhausted all the possibilities.

Don't believe me? Here, I'll prove it.

I've gotten to know all the nobles and then proceeded to annoy the crap out of them. Erothon's kicked me out of the kitchen for three straight weeks and I've basically learned all he can teach me about Gondorian cuisine. I've read all I can understand in the library and befriended the librarian Gilsur. I've commandeered a stack of bound parchment and various pieces of charcoal from Arwen and drawn everyone I've missed. I've sparred and practiced to the point of self-harm. I've run around the citadel with a long ribbon streaming out behind me, for no apparent reason and now I am fucking bored. Annoying my brothers doesn't even feel like a worthwhile activity anymore.

You _know_ I've got it bad when I don't even want to pester Boromir. It's really much more enjoyable pestering him because he's quicker to show signs of distress. His ears turn red, his brows unite into one, and his mouth becomes a thin, hard line. It's hilarious, really. Faramir's the patient one, so he has to be whittled longer and sometimes I don't have the energy or the inclination for that, and he _knows_ it.

Speaking of which, I think I'll go see what my brothers are up to.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a walking contradiction. Whatever, I'm bored and if I don't do something I will fursplode. I'm so bored that I'm willing to do something that I've already said doesn't feel like a worthwhile endeavor, if only to actually be _doing_ something.

Movement definitely beats sitting around on your ass. I make my way to my oldest brother's study and practically kick the door open.

"BROTHER!" I cry, throwing my arms around him and bounding onto his back.

"GET OFF, DEMON SPAWN!"

OoO

It's so encouraging to know that my own brother thinks that I'm a spawn of the devil. It's almost enough to make me feel guilty that I gave him a welt the size of Texas on his forehead but sadly I don't think demons are liable to experience mercy.

No, I am not sulking. Demons don't sulk.

"Sam, I truly am sorry for calling you a spawn of a demon." Boromir chastised, tugging on my sleeve. "Won't you come take a walk with me?"

"Demons don't walk." I inform him irritably. "They float evilly."

Faramir takes this as his cue to walk in. He eyes us both before rolling his eyes theatrically. "You really should not have insulted her as you did, brother. Shame on you."

Boromir glares at him, arms folding across his chest. "And you would have done better?"

"Probably not." he admits, making me glare darkly at him in turn. He laughs and holds up his hands in defense. "I do have a solution, though."

"Yeah?" he reaches into his tunic and pulls out a thick creamy envelope. "What's that?"

"A letter from the Shire."

I am on him before he can so much as blink. "Ah, I knew that would capture your attention."

"GIMME IT." So apparently, I've reverted back to a three-year-old. Angelica Pickles, eat your heart out.

"Come, we must all take a walk." Faramir lorded imperiously, linking arms with me. "It is much better to read letters out in the bright sunshine than in here in a musty room."

Both mine and Boromir's faces are dubious but we follow him nonetheless. We make ourselves comfortable under a tree and I have to admit that Faramir's right. The breeze is blowing and the warm sunlight on my face gives me a pervasive feeling of peace and contentment that I haven't had since directly after the war ended and...Well, if I had to be honest, since everyone left.

"To the Children of the House of Ecthelion," I closed my eyes as Faramir began, letting his voice paint pictures of the stories Frodo's letter contained. They told us about their journey and of the strange and wonderful things they'd seen along the way. Of how they'd come to find the Shire in a shambles and how they had run into Saruman and Grima again and how they'd freed their home from his clutches, and how it was _so good _to finally be home. Listening to my brother's voice, I could almost see them in the Green Dragon, Pippin holding a pint of beer, Merry discussing something with Frodo, Sam examining a piece of ham. It made me smile, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was the Hobbit Brigade. They'd traveled so far and seen so much that the least the world could do was let them live long and happy lives.

Sitting there under the eaves of a tree, sunshine streaming across my face, I realized something. I was going to be a denizen of Middle Earth for the rest of my life, wasn't I? And yet those little people, those adorable hobbits that up until the war, no one had even heard of save in song and legend, had seen more of Middle Earth than I.

That just won't do, pets. That just won't do.

Abruptly, I sat up and looked both my brothers in the eye. "I'm going to travel Arda." And with that, I ran off to request an audience with the king.

OoO

"You want to _what_?" Elessar asked eyeing me like I had grown another head. I really should be used to those by now.

"I want to be given leave to travel Middle Earth." I stated again, breezily. Like I was telling him the state of the weather. "There's still so much more left to see out there, and I want to soak it all in. I'm about as useful here as a duck in a paper factory and if this is to be my home, then I would really, really like the chance to explore it; to make it so."

"We understand what you are trying to say, Sam." Arwen begins evenly, trying to cover the fact that her husband is still staring intently at me, shock and disapproval etched into his face.

Yeah? Well up yours, Traitor-beard.

Er—sorry, default response to authority.

"I cannot allow it." He says finally. There is a loud 'Whoop!' from outside in the hallway, and I've no doubt that if I were to throw open that door right now, I'd find both brothers standing there, ears pressed up to the door.

"_Why?"_ I demand, frowning.

"You forget that we were traveling companions, you and I, once upon a time, and you have a truly abysmal sense of direction. T'would only get you killed." he told me flatly. "While I appreciate your desire to see more of our beautiful lands, I cannot in good conscience allow you to go out there and fare on your own."

"I'll learn how to read a map." I shoot back with a glare. "I'll learn how to navigate by the stars and by the trees. Gilsur has a book in the library somewhere that'll help me, I'm sure of it."

"You cannot learn survival from a book, Sam."

I have to visibly quell the urge to stamp my foot like a child. "I did pretty well during the war." I said, a hint of sullenness creeping into my voice. Aragorn heaves a sigh and opens his mouth to reject me again and I cut him off. "I'm not just some damsel in distress you know. I thought I proved that during the numerous times I marched with you in battle, but I guess it's never really sunk in, huh? I_ am_ capable of not getting myself killed you know. I'm not so dense that I didn't pick up on a few things while the fellowship was still together. I know you're worried and I understand that, but if this is to be my home, then I would like a chance to be able to make it my home."

Arwen looks at my face and touches a hand lightly to Aragorn's shoulder. He turns to look at her, and I have a feeling they're having a telepathic conversation or something equally as elvish and creepy to lesser mortals, before sighing. "Go find Gilsur and acquire that book. If I am satisfied with your skills at navigation and hunting, then you may do as you please."

"Promise not to judge me by the Almighty Code of Ranger Skills?" I ask, a smile spreading across my face.

"You have my word." he assures me. Arwen's eyes are twinkling. "Now get out of my sight."

I happily oblige.

OoO

It takes two weeks of constant studying and training but eventually Aragorn dubs me ready to step into the wide world. My brothers aren't very happy about it but then again, they're so protective I never really expected them to be. My supplies are packed and loaded; Charcoal is as excited as I've ever seen him and I can tell that he's as eager as I am to get this show on the road.

"Another blanket, my Lady." Maia says, coming up from behind me and tucking a thick white blanket into one of my bags. "I've heard tell that it can get mighty cold in some parts."

I pull her into a hug. "Thanks Maia, I'm gonna miss you."

"So will I, Sam." her arms tighten around me and she pats my back in a motherly fashion. A ruckus sounds from behind us and we both turn to see Tweedledum and Tweedledee standing in the entryway.

"Ah, we are in luck, the Great Adventuress is still here." Faramir says holding out his arms wide for a hug. I roll my eyes but oblige him. Hey, he might be a mook, but he's still my brother, and he's proven the more supportive one at that.

"You will be careful out there, yes?" he says, gray eyes suddenly serious.

I kiss his cheek, a smile on my face. "Aren't I always?"

His grip on my arms tighten. "_That_ is what I am worried about, little sister."

If that weren't delivered in true-blue bigger brother fashion, I would be insulted and hurt him badly, but as it is, I'll let it go. Besides, Boromir tugged me away before I had the chance to inflict any damage.

"Itinerary." Boromir barks, shoulders tense. "Now."

I blink up at him and crack a grin. "What are you Robocop now?" As always, the pop-culture reference swoops right over his head and onwards onto the peaks of Amon Die. I heave a sigh and parrot off my intended route and the estimated duration of my absence (nine months, by the by) and try to ignore his sullen expression.

"Sword?" I point to Keiko's barely concealed hilt by my saddle.

"Daggers?" I pat the side of my boots.

"Food? Waterskin? Medicinal herbs, bandages? Gold?" his eyebrows started to converge as he tried to think of more things to add to his checklist.

"Boromir." my voice is soft as I say his name. He breaks his concentration and looks at me, worry etched into every feature. I let out a chuckle and shake my head in exasperation. "You worry _far_ too much." I chide him gently. "I'm going to be fine, honest."

"And how am I to be certain?" he demands petulantly.

I laugh. "You're just going to have to trust me." I stand on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Tasha and I annually beat down throngs of frenzied women during holiday shopping sprees; I think I can hold my own in Middle Earth."

"Be sure that you do, or there will be hell to pay." he says pressing a kiss to my temple and pulling me into a hug. "I shall miss your crazy, little sister."

"I'ma miss you too, you oaf." I huff, his hug knocking the wind out of me. I gesture to Faramir to come close and jerk him into the embrace. "_Both_ of you."

OoO

It feels so good to finally be out in the open again. I never thought that three months in Minas Tirith would make me miss the great outdoors so much, but what can you do? Charcoal is plodding along happily beside me, a spring is in his step and there is a more cheerful lilt to his neighs. I guess he really enjoyed roaming the wild.

We're only a few miles away from the citadel, so I turn and take in the expanse of the White City for the last time in what I know is going to be a long while. I can still make out a cluster of tiny shapes on the mouth of the fourth level, waving enthusiastically. I smile. Wooh boy, I'll miss them.

"Ready to run, boy?" I ask my horse, giving his ear a loving scratch. He looks me in the eye and tosses his head proudly. My horse is so cool. I clamber onto his back, pulling Keiko's sheath from where it's secured in the saddle, and tie it to my belt. I dig my heels into his sides and he shoots off like a lightning bolt, off into the sunset.

It's been such a long time since Charcoal and I last rode together so it takes me a moment to throw myself into the groove, but when I do, well…it's awesome.

OoO

It's nightfall when I finally decide to stop and make camp. The gathering dusk is heavy around me, bringing with it a quiet calm and a chilly wind. I'm close to Rohan's borders now, making the one-week trek to escort the former Rohirric king's remains a one day endeavor. I'm pretty proud of myself, actually. I seek cover underneath the eaves of a few trees, scrounging around for firewood as I unload my bedroll and secure Charcoal to an overhanging tree branch.

"Things are so quiet here. It's kind of freaking me out." I mutter out loud as I grab my tinderbox. My voice hangs heavy in the air, like I'm the last living thing around for miles. It is a comfort when the fire starts going and I flop down onto the dirt, trying to pretend that Keiko's hilt pressing into my waist is actually a comfort.

OoO

Years from now, when I retell this story, I'm going to say that I was rudely awoken from a bout of fitful sleep by the noise and shrill shrieks of the orcs, and not up all night and on-guard like I actually was. In all honesty, I don't think I can be blamed for being on edge; I've been to Rohan before and even in the darkest of nights, I had felt at ease…_safe_. Now, all the bells were ringing in my head, like a fire drill on crack. However, it sounds more cavalier and nonchalant when I say that I can sleep and be devil-may-care about such a thing, so whatever.

I don't really know why I might want to sound so cavalier in front of whoever I might be telling this story to in the future but, hey, I want to seem cool, at least for the first ten minutes before they figure out that I'm actually batshit crazy.

So, there I was, sitting by my fire, chewing on a piece of bread and trying to pierce the darkness that covered my surroundings like a blanket, when I heard the harsh, unmistakable strains of the black speech, issuing from orc-mouths.

How do I know? Well, _you_ try having to listen to that shit for the better part of a year and we'll see if you don't learn how to distinguish it.

I could say that I packed up and proceeded to hightail it out of there because that's what my survival instincts were telling me to do, but that would be a lie. I must admit to doing something incredibly stupid.

Yes, I did pack up my things and hid Charcoal in a clearing far enough away that he wouldn't be found by any wandering orcs. What I did next however, is something that I'm pretty sure my brothers will kill me for. I slowly unsheathed Keiko and made my way to where the orcs were encamped.

I know, I know. Clearly, I forgot my brain in Minas Tirith.

There seemed to be an unusually large number of them, large enough to make me silently sheathe Keiko in favor of watching in the shadows for an opportune moment to strike. We'd all thought that most of them had mobilized to Mordor for the final assault and had consequently perished in the fall, but clearly a few parties had escaped. They were huddled over a large fire, a rancid stench rising up among the fumes. My face scrunches up in disgust and I recoil when I see that it's one of their own on the slab.

Just…eurgh, I know they're prone to killing and eating each other but it's just different when you see it up close and personal, you know?

"Ah, and what's this?" a voice suddenly hisses in my ear, making my blood turn ice cold. I feel the cold steel of a blade on my neck before my fingers can so much as squeeze Keiko's hilt. "It seems we won't be going hungry for very long after all."

My captor lays a grimy hand on my shoulder and wrenches me around to face him, eyes bright and hungry. I curse at myself for being stupid enough to forget to watch my back. This isn't a battle, Sam. You haven't any companions to bail you out of a skirmish when you let your defenses down.

"My, my, we have a pretty one here, don't we?" he hisses, teeth gleaming in the dim light, sending shivers down my spine. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How do I get myself out of this one? Boromir's going to _kill_ me. Again. After these jack-offs do; I don't think I can pull off the zombie look, I really don't.

"You're not welcome on these lands, filth. Leave now." Holy crap on a cracker, where the hell did that come from?

"Feisty, eh?" the orc lets out a mad cackle, the tip of his blade pressing deeper into my neck. I can feel something trickling down into my shoulder, I'm pretty sure it's blood. "I like that in my women."

"Okay, first of all, _eew, gross_. Second of all, if you don't get off me right now, you won't live to regret it." Jesus Christ, Samantha. What did I say about _keeping your damned mouth shut_?

He lets his mad cackle loose again, making my hair stand on end and he demands, thoroughly amused. "Oh will I? And how might that come about hmm?"

"This way, _yrch_." A voice answers for me and before I can blink, a blade cuts through the darkness—and through my orc's neck.

With the orc sufficiently dead, the speaker steps closer to the light and I nearly faint because _holy fuck_ it's an _elf._ His eyes graze over me in the way I've gotten used to from Legolas when he's checking for wounds and then he inclines his head. "Draw your sword."

Um…what?

Okay, so I'm grateful for having my ass saved and everything but who does this bozo think he is, to come here and order me around like this? He's not my king, or my captain or my _anything_, and I have no allegiance to him. I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but he's already bursting into the clearing, sword raised and ready to strike.

Oh magnificent, I get the one elf that's actually in-fucking-sane. Awesome.

I may not owe him my allegiance but he did save my life and I'm not the type to abandon anyone in battle, no matter how crazy. Actually, if you think about it, I'm all _about_ sticking by people through absurd battles. Usually with us severely outnumbered.

The orc-party is made up of twenty members, so that's still pretty much true in this case. Glad things haven't changed.

"Whoever you are, you're fucking gonzo." I shout to my partner as I jump into the fray, bringing Keiko down on a shrieking orc.

He shoots me a lazy grin as he hacks apart a beastie, and bows a thank you. "Quite proud of it; my name is Naravanen, by the way."

I duck and parry a blow, shaking my head and laughing exasperatedly. What? Any guy who can be that arrogant while killing orcs can slowly work his way to being a-okay in my books.

OoO

The last dying shriek pierces through the night and I cross the clearing to where this Naravanen person is standing, cleaning the blood off his blade. "Hey, buddy." He turns to meet my sword pressed to his neck.

"Oh wonderful, I save your hide and this is the thanks I get in return?"

I roll my eyes. "Who are you, really?"

"I have given you my name, lady." He answers as if that should placate me. It doesn't. "What more do you need?"

"What's an elf doing in the borders of the Horseland?" I demand. I honestly don't know why I'm so shifty all of a sudden.

Chalk it up to the stress of getting caught by surprise by an orc and being held at knife-point.

"What's a woman doing in the borders of Rohan?" he shoots back.

"I don't think that's any of your business, but I'm traveling." I answer him coldly.

"So am I."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that?' I ask skeptically. "Some random dodgy elf person is in the woods at the same time a band of orcs attack me, sure, what a strange coinkydink! I don't buy it."

His face, which has remained cool and impassive until now, flickers with irritation. "Are you implying that I was in cahoots with those monsters?"

I shrug. "You tell me."

Naravanen glares darkly at me, no doubt wishing he _hadn't_ saved me from being a Sam-kebob before saying, "My name is Naravanen and although it isn't any of _your_ business, I speak the truth when I say that I'm traveling. I was not in any way, shape or form, in cahoots with those orcs and I will thank you not to insult my honor in such a manner again."

I stare at him for a long time, weighing my options. This is probably me being paranoid but this much coincidence around me? The universe has something fucked up planned and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it.

Then again, he did save my life and he uses 'cahoots'!

I lower my sword. "Thanks for saving my life, Naravanen." My voice is sincere and I incline my head in a bow before hightailing it out of there.

I make my way back to Charcoal and unfurl my bedroll. There is a welt on my shoulder that's going to bruise magnificently in the morning. Awesome.

**a/n: New character, introduced at the behest of user GantuShmantu 2.0. I needed a challenge and I feel like I can make this pretty interesting. Thoughts? Opinions? Violent reactions? Lay them on me, my pretties.**


	40. Edoras, Eowyn and Egotistical Elves

**a/n: I'm so nice and filled with joy. Happy Christmas everybody! Bet you didn't expect an update this soon, did you?**

**Chapter 40: Edoras, Eowyn and Egotistic Elves**

**-Sam-**

Ugh. Fuck my life with a rotten spoon.

You know what sucks about having a map of the entirety of Arda? They don't give enough focus to the forests and now I'm lost. Oh, I know where I am, sure. I'm in Firien, the woods on the borders of Rohan, right next to the beacon peaks, but do I know how to get out of these woods?

That would be a resounding no.

It's not for lack of trying either, but the forest just _won't_ let up and it's driving me bonkers. I've been going around in circles for the better part of the day and my body's aching from all the walking and the untimely fight from last night.

Speaking of which, can I just say that that Naravanen person was the strangest elf I've ever laid my eyes on? Cool. And that's counting Legolas and his crazy old lady PMS of DOOM. Like, it's weird because in my entire time here, and I've spent quite a chunk of it among elves, I've never heard a single one of them use the word 'cahoots'. I doubt they even know what the word _means_.

Let's examine this in a scholarly fashion, shall we duckies?

If it were Legolas or any of the elves I've met so far, they would have said, 'Are you impugning my honor by insinuating that I am in league with those filthy beasts?' And then they'd insert a piercing glare that makes you want to set your soul on fire with shame.

With Naravanen there was none of that. Well. Yeah, there was sincerity and genuine horror that I even thought he was in league with the orcs but…I'm missing the general elvishness. And the use of 'cahoots' bugs me; I don't think I've ever met him before, so I don't really know how he'd even heard that word.

Charcoal nudges my shoulder, bringing me out of my reverie enough to notice that I had come to an abrupt stop in the middle of a glade and that standing right in front of me was the elf in question. Ah, but speak of the devil and he doth appear.

His grin is insolent and he's leaning against a poplar tree like a big, old cliché. "So we meet again."

My face automatically contorts into a glare. "So what, are you _stalking_ me now?"

"Oh yes, that is _exactly_ what I am doing." He deadpans. I roll my eyes and start to lead Charcoal past him. "You could be a little more grateful, you know."

I whirl around to face him. "_Excuse_ me?"

"I did save your life," he shrugs, eyes never leaving my face. "Back there, last night, and maidens as pretty as you really should be of a more pleasant disposition. Most girls would have at least given me their name, befriended me maybe, given me a spot of food, not run off into the night without so much as a backward glance."

He gives me another lazy grin and I feel my stomach twitch involuntarily. Gag reflex. No, that's a lie; it's the twinge you get whenever a really hot guy grins your way. "But then, you're not most girls, are you?"

Wow, this guy is even worse than Glorfindel. "No, I'm not." Is my curt response as I grab Charcoal's reins and start walking.

"Going somewhere?" he asks pleasantly, falling into step beside me.

I raise an eyebrow at him in annoyance. "That is the general goal of traveling, yes."

"And where exactly are you traveling _to_?" I don't deign to answer him, instead choosing to quicken my pace, eager to leave behind this persistent, arrogant, ruggedly handsome, oaf.

Pretend I didn't say that.

What, what? I'm not going to lie; Naravanen _is_ hot in a tall, dark, bad boy sort of way that makes me want to throw away my underwear. Preferably at him. Er.

_Anyway_, his hotness does not detract from his personality however and I really want to punch his face in. Can I? Can I? Please? No? Damn.

I can see an opening up ahead with nothing but a vast expanse of plains; this makes me do a little jig that elicits a snort from my unwanted companion. I cast an eye on him, still glaring. "Sorry, I must have completely blanked on the part where I asked you to come."I give a fake little gasp and raise a hand to my open mouth. "Oh wait! No, I didn't because I didn't ask you to come."

"You don't have to ask me to come," he responds genially, reaching into the hollow of a tree and retrieving a pack. "I'm coming with you; consider it payment for saving your life."

I've skidded to a halt before his sentence is even finished. "No, no you're not. This is a solo expedition. I'll repay my debt in a different manner; you're not coming."

He laughs at my vehemence, and it really ticks me off because I'm _not_ just some little kitten who'll take this lying down. "But I _am_," he insists, looking me square in the eye before adding. "I've never met a Mary Sue before."

My stomach feels like it's just taken a dive from a fifty-foot precipice without a bungee cord and my blood runs cold. "_What did you say_?"

"That's what you are isn't it?" he asks calmly, examining his nails in a gesture that I would have called out as exceedingly, mind-numbingly _gay_, if I weren't so incapacitated by shock.

"How the fuck do you—How would you even—you're not," I spluttered in a very uncomely fashion, gazing at him, completely gobsmacked. I don't understand how this random elf, hiding in the woods as far away from elven homes as it's possible to be without crossing the sea, could have knowledge of such a detestable term as _Mary Sue_. I mean, even back home, only the fanboys knew about…oh my _god_.

"I _knew_ something was off about you!" I declare, jumping on him and slamming him into a tree. The branches of the tree shook but I doubt I hurt him. I've no illusions about my strength; I'm still one tiny person and most males tower over me like trees. "You're not from around here, are you, Marty-Stu?"

This time, it's my turn to get slammed into the tree, the abrupt force knocks the wind out of me and I gape up at Naravanen for a minute, not quite sure what to do. "Clever, very clever." He says silkily, his voice barely above a whisper. His heavy gaze doesn't shift from my face and I can feel my cheeks turning red as a cherry tomato.

"Get off me." I say after a few moments. He throws me a grin specifically engineered to dazzle me, and doesn't move, leaving me trapped between him and the tree, his fingers still fisting the neckline of my shirt. I clench my jaw and bring my knee up as hard as I possibly can.

His pained groans fill the clearing. I smile. "I _did_ ask nicely. It's Sam, by the way, since you've obviously been dying to know."

OoO

"Is junior alright?" I ask after Naravanen rolled out of the ball he had curled up into. Sunset was almost here and I'd managed to get a fire going.

"Are you sure you're actually a woman?" he asks, and I find myself fighting the urge to sing Cobra Starship's 'Damn You Look Good and I'm Drunk'.

Stupid elf.

"I would apologize but you deserved what you got." I tell him, putting the finishing shades on my fetching portrait of him writhing on the ground. "In any case, you should consider yourself lucky that all you got is a knee to the groin."

He makes a pained face as he sits up. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

I look up from my sketchpad and snort at the thought. "Because I have two _very_ protective brothers and if they had been here, you'd have had your hide kicked twelve ways till Tuesday." I reach over and pat his knee. "They don't take too kindly to strangers pressing up against their little sister."

He has the decency to color up at my words, which honestly make me thankful because that means he's just a flirt who thought I was easy, and not a complete douchebag who would have actually done anything.

"I'm sorry about that."

I snort derisively. "No you're not, you're just sorry I'm not interested."

"That too." He agrees, shrugging.

I wordlessly hand him a chunk of venison on a plate. He takes it gratefully, and I watch him, the flames making shadows dance across his face, making his dark eyes appear even darker. The question was rolling around in my tongue, and I figured there was no better way to say it than directly. "So, what's your story?"

He takes a bite of the meat, chewing it thoughtfully. "I don't have one."

I laugh. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Naravanen."

He smiles. "Alright, let me phrase it a different way, then." I give him a moment to contemplate. If anyone asks, I am not admiring the way his dark hair streams out behind him, nor am I thinking about how he looks a lot like that hot guy who played Prince Caspian in those Narnia movies. Nope, not doing that at all. "I do not have a story that is worth sharing."

"That's not roundabout at all." I mutter laughingly. "Alright, fine, keep your secrets. How long have you been here?"

"Five years."

My eyes bulged. "That long?"

"And you?" he inquires with a nod.

"About a year, I guess." I answer with a careless shrug. "A friend and I landed here near Hollin, before the Fellowship decided to go over Caradhras."

If he thought my use of the word 'landed' was strange, he made no mention of it. "Ah, so you were a participant in the war."

I give him a lopsided grin. "I was kind of thrown into it, you could say; craziest time of my life."

We grow quiet for a while, neither of us willing to share anything more with the other. He hands me back the plate and I tuck it into a sack. His gaze is intense, disconcerting, and I find myself fidgeting slightly. "Your friend, whatever became of them?"

It takes me a while to answer, unsure whether I should share such a thing with a stranger, but I figured, what harm would it do? "She went back home."

"Home?" he repeats looking stricken. "_How_?"

"How else but magic?" I supply, maintaining my carefree front. "Galadriel could only send one of us home so I chose to stay behind."

"Why?" the dying embers cast his face in a soft glow, making him look young and vulnerable.

I weigh my words before answering, not even really sure why I was being so candid with him. "Because she had a lot more to go back for."

OoO

Naravanen and I talked well into the night. We talked about how things were back home before we landed here, about cartoons and pop culture and what sort of movies were being made. It was, for the most part, stupid and trivial and no one would have understood it but us, but it served its purpose.

It gave us a chance to grasp at a little piece of home, no matter how far and faint.

I think I needed that, because no matter how much I love my brothers and the friends I've made since I got here, no matter how much I acclimate myself to Arda, a little piece of me will always live in the 21st century. Naravanen provided me with that window, however small, to a place I would never see again. And I think I did the same for him.

So when morning came and I saddled up Charcoal and he asked me what the plan was, I wasn't all that surprised with what next came out of his mouth.

"I want to come with you." He blurts out. "I've been living in this forest for the past three months and I need a change of scenery."

I open my mouth to ask why exactly I should let him come but he cuts me off. "Besides, it's better to travel with a companion, because at least you've got someone to watch your back at all times."

I raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. "And you think I'd trust you enough to let you do that?"

His expression switches from eager to annoyed as he glares at me. "I'm not about to sell you off as a slave, Sam." He raises three fingers in a salute. "Scout's honor."

I have to laugh at that. "Fine, you can come." I relent; rolling my eyes as he happily shoulders his pack. "But I don't know how you can keep up with me on foot; I'm far too much of a lazy bone to walk."

"Yes, like I'd _actually_ go traipsing across Middle Earth without a horse." Oh, sarcasm, so this is how it feels when it's used against you. "Only rangers have the patience for that; I have a horse."

I throw him a withering look while he goes to retrieve his horse from the confines of the forest. He returns moments later with a dapple gray mare. Her dark hair streamed out behind her, much like that of her owner, and a star was in the middle of her forehead. "She's pretty." I told him, coming close and patting the horse's neck.

"Thank you." He responds. "So, what's the plan?"

Charcoal breaks to a trot, leading the way out of Firien to the vast open plains of Rohan. I squint at the bright sunlight and scan the horizon. "Edoras; I have a sister-friend who'd kick my ass if she finds out I didn't stop by to see her before going out to see the world."

"Sister-friend?" he inquires, brow knit together as he followed my gaze.

"Eowyn." I answer. "I'm going to go see Eowyn"

OoO

It's a three-and-a-half day ride to Edoras. Naravanen and I are on our horses clopping along the plains, the sun beating down on our backs. It's better than it was when we were running to save Merry and Pippin because one, we're on horses and two, I'm not grievously injured.

It's kind of disconcerting to think that it was on these same plains that we raced across in a desperate attempt to save the rowdier half of the hobbit brigade. Never thought I'd be here alone so soon.

Well…not alone, per se, Naravanen's here, after all.

I glance over to the elf in question, keeping my expression neutral. He gives me a small smile before whispering something in his horse's ear. I turn my eyes back onto the path, letting Charcoal take control of our trot as I fall deep in thought.

No, it's not a reckless thing to do, Charcoal's a smart horse and he knows this terrain like the back of his…hooves. Er. He's not going to let me go wandering off.

Anyway, is it bad that the day isn't even halfway over yet and I've already got misgivings about letting Naravanen come with me? It is, isn't it?

I don't even know what it is; I just get this feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I look at him and…I don't know. I don't know what to make of him; I guess that's what's throwing me off about him. Ever since I came here, I've been surrounded by characters that I was familiar with to some degree.

Gandalf is grouchy, Haldir is haughty; I knew that before I came here so I've always known what to expect in one way or another. But this guy appears with his sword-swinging, orc-killing, broody, smoldering crap and I don't know anything about him.

Maybe it's a control thing? Like, all the wars have driven me batshit crazy—er, craz_ier_ and given me control issues?

Nah, can't be. Must just be freaking out about the fact that I have an enigma wrapped up in a hot male tamale.

Speaking of hot, I can feel his eyes burning holes through my back. Awkward.

"You're staring." I point out, keeping my eyes on the road. I wonder briefly if it's because his gaze is just that intense or if it's a quirk I've adopted from being around one particular elf for too long because lord knows Twinkletoes is prone to the Observant Piercing Stare too.

I can hear him shifting uncomfortable on his saddle; clearly he hadn't realized that I could tell he'd been staring. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't burst a vein thinking and run yourself off the road." Smooth.

A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips but when I turn to him I'm glaring. I think I'm PMS-ing. "I'm not likely to get an aneurism whilst riding a _horse_." I tell him coldly. "Besides, I'm a big girl. You don't have to worry about me."

"I never said you weren't!" he shoots back defensively. "I'm only trying to look out for you."

"Don't." I say bitingly, taking hold of Charcoal's reins again. "I'm just peachy."

Surprise and confusion is clearly written across his face as I spur Charcoal on and leave him to follow the dust in my wake.

OoO

I ride Charcoal long and hard, not stopping until the sun is hanging low on the horizon. My stomach is complaining of being empty and Charcoal is so tired froth has formed on his lips. I pull him into a stop behind a large cluster of boulders and swing myself down.

"Sorry I worked you so hard, boy." I mutter into his ear as I ease him of his burdens. I honestly don't know what came over me. I was an utter bitch to Naravanen back there and it was totally uncalled for. I'm freaking out because we're nearing Edoras now and that means Eowyn and consequently a tongue-lashing for not guarding my back with those orcs and for letting a complete stranger accompany me in my travels.

I mean, come on, this is _Eowyn_. She's going to marry Faramir and she's already taken it upon herself to be my older sister, complete with all the strappings involved. She's going to murder me for agreeing to Naravanen's company.

What's worse is she'll probably tell my brothers and oh god, I am going to be _so_ dead. They're going to _kill_ me when I get home.

Naravanen thunders towards me, his expression stormy. I sigh and mentally prepare myself for the bitchfest. "_What_," he demands, leaping off his horse and moving towards me. "Is your problem?"

"I would've thought that was obvious." I shrug, eyeing him coolly. "You're my problem."

He pulls back like I just slapped him and yes, okay, I feel sort of bad. I'm being so mean. "You _said_ I could come."

I shrug. "Didn't say I was going to trust you or be nice to you, did I?"

"This is bullshit." He snarls. "Look, you don't trust me. It's survival, I get that; I commend you for it. I know I'm going to have to earn it, but how the hell am I supposed to do that if you won't give me a chance to? I'm not going to kill you in your sleep or rape you or trade you off to the highest bidder, Sam."

"Yeah?" I lift my chin at him, oozing defiance. "Well then be straight with me, Naravanen. What were you really doing in Firien before you found me? Why do you want to come with me so badly?"

All his anger, which had been building up and making him seem taller (you know what they say about hot air, right?) seemed to rush out of him, making him look tired and wan. "I _told_ you, I've been living in Firien for the past three months; I'm a wood-elf."

"Fine." I answer in clipped tones. "I'll believe you."

He lets out an exasperated breath as I look on at him expectantly, arms folded over my chest. Am I really that annoying?

Don't answer that.

"You've been here for a year and you've already had the adventure of a lifetime," he takes a seat on a rock and looks wistfully at the stars. "I've been here for five years and that orc-killing was the most excitement I've had in six months."

I try to hide the skepticism from my voice and fail miserably. "So, you want an adventure and somehow you've gotten it into your head that you'll get it with _me_?"

He laughs. "You know for someone who's seen so much, you're incredibly naïve."

Yeah? Well, up yours.

"I don't mean that offensively." He defends, chuckling. Fucking mouth. "You land smack dab in the middle of the war of the ring, take up with the fellowship, fight in battles and your first night alone in the wild, you come across a band of stray orcs."

"So I attract an unprecedented amount of unhappy coincidences, what of it?"

"You really believe these things are coincidental?" I frown at him. "Alright, maybe you do, but call it a gut feeling but I think I'll have a hell of a time with you. Does that comfort you?"

I don't answer, choosing instead to start up a cook-fire and ready some food. I work silently, putting the things Aragorn taught me to good use and pretty soon there's a decent sized hunk of venison roasting above the fire, enough for both me and the elf. I bring out a large loaf and a jar of honey, eager for something sweet to take my mind off things before I answer, "You're wrong you know. I doubt we'll encounter anything terribly exciting on the road."

"We'll see." He shrugs coming closer to tend to the fire. "I have a question though."

"What?"

"Are you going to act like a menopausal bitch for the entire trek?" I throw a large chunk of bread at him.

"No," I assure him, slathering honey onto the meat and on my bread. "just a regular one."

"Oh great." He enthuses sarcastically.

I laugh. That'll do pig, that'll do.

OoO

"Halt! Who goes there?" It's late as we trot into the city. I throw back the hood of my cloak and peer closely at the guard.

"Grimbold?" I ask, uncertain. I think it's him, but I can't be sure.

"My Lady, Sam?" a torch is lit and sure enough, Grimbold's ginger bearded face comes into view. He beams at me and extends a hand. "What a delightful surprise!"

He escorts us up the stairs and into the doors of the golden hall, chatting up a storm. Crops are doing well, children are happy again, all that jazz. Meduseld is empty, no doubt because of the late hour but it's still as grand and beautiful as it was when we first came here. Dinner has been over for about two hours now and Eomer is apparently in his study because that's where Grimbold is leading us.

"My liege," Grimbold bows. "I apologize for the disturbance."

"What is it, Grimbold?" came Eomer's gruff voice.

Grimbold casts one quick, surreptitious glance at me, obviously remembering the enmity Eomer and I used to share before saying, "Lady Samantha is here, my lord."

There is a loud rustling and the sound of a chair being pushed abruptly back and then Eomer is in the doorway. I raise my hand in a wave and grin. "Howdy, future brother-in-law."

"By the stars, what are you doing here?"

I pull a face. "Oh yeah, I'm glad to see you too."

He laughs uproariously at that and orders Grimbold to wake Eowyn and ready a meal and two rooms. The shieldmaiden of Rohan appears moments later clad in gleaming white, as per usual. Her hair is in disarray and her grin is so wide I'm kind of scared it'll break her face.

"SAM!" Oh look, there's a shieldmaiden around my neck. "Oh, I missed you! But wait, what are you doing here?"

Here we go. "I'm here to say goodbye." I tell her, squeezing her arms and smiling. "I'm traveling; I want to see as much of Arda as I possibly can."

She stares at me, long and hard. Her brother is too from where he's sitting on the table with Naravanen. "_Alone_?"

"I'm not alone." I object pointing to the dark-haired elf. "I have Naravanen with me."

"He's an elf." I add when this doesn't impress them.

"And where exactly did you two meet?" she asks, eyeing him suspiciously. Let it never be said that the woman who slew the Witchking of Angmar was easily played. "I do not recall seeing you during our stay in Minas Tirith. From where do you hail?"

Naravanen throws me a look that says plain as day, 'I am _so_ going to get you back for throwing me to the blonde, Rohirric sharks.'

I grin innocently.

"I am a traveler, I hail from nowhere. Sam and I met by chance when she was held hostage by a band of orcs at the borders of this land." _Son of a bitch_.

"Orcs!" Eowyn gasps.

Naravanen throws me a smirk before adopting an expression of gallant concern. "There was a party comprised of one and twenty of them at the woods of Firien. I was encamped in the forest for the night when I heard their racket. I had gone to investigate when I encountered your lady here, held at knifepoint by the orcs' scout; I later found out that he'd surprised her. I killed him and together, she and I slew the rest of his companions."

"Your brothers let you loose?" Eomer asks looking skeptical. I glare. "Truly?"

I make a face. "So I got a little complacent and forgot to watch my back; it's not a big deal. Naravanen was there to get me out of it."

"And what if he had not?" Eowyn demands. I shrink back a little from all the big-sisterly waves radiating off her. I am going to kill Naravanen later.

"I had an escape plan!"

She sniffs disdainfully. "An escape plan; of course. You would have gone from the frying pan and straight into the flames. Boromir is going to throw a fit."

Immediately I latch onto her arm. "Ohgodnonodon'ttellhimhe'llslaughterme."

She tugs her arms loose and I sit down next to her. "You can't tell him, Eowyn. Not while I'm still so near, anyway. He'd ride out himself and he'd put me under lock and key for the rest of my life." I give her my best puppy-dog eyes routine. "You know how protective he gets. I'm sorry I wasn't more careful, I promise I will be in the future. I promise."

She turns to Naravanen this time, her glare strong enough to make the bravest of men quail. "You, elf, you are to travel with her?"

Naravanen manages a nod. I'm a little impressed. If I were in his shoes, I'd be shaking. "Make sure you keep her safe, for if harm befalls her, it is not only my wrath that shall fall upon your head but that of the entire Rohirric guard."

You know how I said I'd be murdering Naravanen later? Yeah, well, I think I'll settle for enjoying the fact that Eowyn's probably scared the shit out of him.

"She slew the Witchking of Angmar." I tell the occupants of the room again, like they don't already know this. What? It's impressive.

"Do not think you and I have finished, Samantha." She snaps, taking hold of my arm and leading me away. I mouth the word 'help' to Eomer and Naravanen. Both men shrug.

Traitors. Traitors the lot of them.

**a/n: I haven't written a chapter this long in a while. Massive thanks to all those who keep reviewing, and I hope the lurkers spare a moment to do so too. Haha. So, anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts on Naravanen! And also, who else do you think she'll encounter along her travels? Speak!**

**Happy Holidays, everybody!**


	41. Again with the talking trees

**a/n: You guys, you guys. I love you all so hard. Happy New Year!**

**Chapter 41: Again with the talking trees**

-Sam-

Freedom! Ha!

Surprisingly enough, Eowyn lets me off the hook with minimal ear bashing. She's pissed as all fuck but she promised not to tell Boromir, so I'm pretty much okay with being verbally assaulted. It's a small price to pay for keeping Boromir in the dark.

Sometimes I wonder which deities I pissed off in my previous life to wind up with such a Nazi brother, but then I figure that I could have done a _lot_ worse.

Besides, Boromir's got a lot of shining moments, and I can't say that his likeness to a wolf guarding her cubs isn't uncalled for considering the number of times I actually _do _get in trouble.

"So dollface, what's the plan?" Naravanen asks, sidling up to me. "We've seen all that Dunland currently has to offer, where to now?"

I give him a look. "Dollface? Why would you call me that?"

"Because you look like Michael Jordan." He quips, rolling his eyes. I punch him hard on the shoulder. "Duh, it's because you have a distinctly doll-like countenance."

My lip curls. "Don't. It's creepy. You're not Tony Pyjamas."

"From the Drake Bell skit, _really_?" Oh my god, the judgment in his tone is almost palpable. I kick him on the shin. "Ouch, _hey!_ Stop hitting me!"

Uh, nope.

"You still haven't answered my question." He says again, rubbing his leg. I smirk at him and dig my heels into Charcoal's side, sending him forward like a shot.

"You're just going to have to follow my lead."

OoO

I think there may be a storm coming in. I'm not sure, but in any case, the wind has started to pick up and if I don't change into warmer clothing I'm going to turn into an ice cube. I think Naravanen is pretty much thinking along the same lines so we both trample into a dense copse of trees and clamber off our horses.

"Do you mean to ride on until daylight?" he asks letting his cloak fall to the ground. I answer in the affirmative and promptly avert my gaze because he's jerked his tunic over his head.

What? I'm twenty; that's an age where you're still pretty much slave to your hormones. I can't help it if the elf is ripped and that I feel the need to respond accordingly.

"I wouldn't mind if you looked you know." Damn that snide voice. I look up to glare at him and tell him to can it, but his grin stops me. For the briefest of seconds, there is something dark and heavy in his grin, but it disappears so fast I'm not even sure if it was actually there. "I'm kidding. You can get dressed in peace; I'll stand guard with the horses."

"Right." I intone, eyeing him uncertainly as he goes.

OoO

"We're going to Hollin?" Naravanen asks, obviously recognizing our route.

I shrug, pulling on Charcoal into a slow trot so he could catch up. "Looks like it."

"Haven't you been there before?" he looks at me askance and I automatically flip him the finger. It's a reflex.

"I have but you forget that it was during the war and it's not like I could explore and draw at leisure." I snap at him.

"I wasn't saying you shouldn't come back." He protests looking dismayed at the thought. "I was merely pointing out that you'd been here before."

"I'm aware of that."

"Are you always this big of a bitch?" I try not to laugh at his disgruntled expression.

"You're a special case." I tell him. He shifts his gaze back onto the road, a scowl on his face. I smile a little because goading him is so much fun. I still don't know whether to trust him or not, but so far Naravanen has proven to be a pretty amusing companion. Especially since it seems to really bother him that I'm being such a raging bitch. I can't help it though; it's so much fun annoying people.

And we all know I am nothing if not annoying.

I can't even believe it's been three weeks since we left Edoras. It doesn't feel nearly as long. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised considering how prone I am to sending Charcoal running like the dogs of hell are bearing down on us, but _wow_. This is just so great; never in my entire life did I ever imagine that I'd be able to traipse around Arda like this.

I've decided to traverse the rivers separating Dunland from Hollin at the fork where Sirannon joins with Glanduin. From the looks of the maps Gilsur gave me, the horses should have the least difficulty in crossing there. I tell Naravanen this and he agrees with me, having gone that way once before. Our pace is slow and steady, because the heat of the noonday sun is hot on our backs and moving feels like a huge effort.

"Can't we stop until the afternoon?" Naravanen asks sleepily. "I'd like a nap, and it's too hot to go on, anyway."

I roll my eyes. Gee, and I thought _I_ was lazy.

"You are." The elf assures me, pulling on his horse, Claire's reins and coming to a stop. "I'm just being practical."

I resist the urge to throw a knife at him and clamber off Charcoal. "If you want to sleep, go ahead. I'm going to go have a look around." He waves a hand at me as he gets settled underneath the bough of a large tree. His eyes are already falling down.

Pathetic.

It's only a couple of miles from where we've stopped to Sirannon, which makes the fact that we've stopped even more annoying, and I take the time to explore. The fork between the two rivers is narrow, about fifteen feet wide at the most, and the horses are going to breeze right on through. The water is clear and sparkling in the noonday sun and I'm filled with the sudden desire to go for a swim.

I curb my impulses however, because I'm not stupid and I have no intention of giving any unforeseen travelers a free show.

I imagine that'd be something of a terror, really.

Anyway, I make do with refilling my water skin and leading the horses with me to graze and drink before kicking off my boots and plunging my feet into the cool water. It feels absolutely amazing.

I secure the horses on a rock before leaning back against a tree and bringing out my sketchpad. It's nearly three-quarters of the way full, and I'm glad I was sensible enough to bring extra supplies, even if I wasn't quite as sensible in anything else I've done since I got here. I take a deep breath and set graphite to paper, looking to capture the image of the horses grazing.

Middle Earth is _amazing_. Sometimes it makes me ache to know that all of this wild, untamed beauty will one day be replaced by…well, you know. I know it's necessary for advancement but it seems like such a steep price to pay.

Eh, but don't listen to me. I get maudlin when I'm drawing. Something about giving my thoughts free rein; there's nothing controlling the crazy.

You can keep comments about how nothing controls the crazy, even when I'm not drawing to yourself, thanks very much. I can't help it if I have a faulty brain-to-mouth filter.

A loud yell disturbs my peace and I bound up with a start when I realize that it's coming from Naravanen. Hurriedly, I unsheathe Keiko and run back to where he'd taken his nap, ready to kill me some orcs. When I get there, I see no orcs but instead, a tall leafy Ent with a long trailing beard of lichen and one elf cowering behind a large boulder.

After taking about two seconds to file away the image of Naravanen cowering like a pansy, I turn to the Tree-herder, a wide grin on my face. "Treebeard!"

His large, bright eyes move from Naravanen to me and his dark face bursts into a slow smile. "_Hoom_, one of the walkers! I did not expect to see you, no, not for a long while yet."

I beam, taking that as a compliment to my ability to knock people's expectations on their asses. "I might say the same for you, leafy one. What are you doing so far from your herd?" I take a few steps back and crane my neck, peering up at the towering faces that have appeared next to his. "And with quite a retinue, too."

He lets out a rich booming laugh. "Now, now, don't be hasty." He says, making me wish I had a nickel because seriously, that's like Treebeard's shtick, you know? Pippin always gets into trouble, Elrond has the eyebrows, Galadriel has the freaky mind-thing, I've got never learning when to keep my trap shut and Treebeard abuses the phrase 'don't be hasty'.

What? It's amusing. I'm easily pleased, so sue me.

"But then," he lumbers, eyeing me thoughtfully. "I had, _hoom_, gathered from the Halflings that you are the hastiest sapling of all."

I'm going to hug those two so hard when I next see them. "That's true." I agree. I'm going to get _such_ a crick in my neck from all this staring upwards. "So, are you going to answer my question?"

His bark groans repeatedly and it takes me a moment to realize that the tree is _laughing_, holy shit. "Little hasty sapling, _hoom_," he chortles, seeming to find boundless amusement in my impatience. "We are searching," another deep, lumbering groan. "For the Entwives."

I whirl around to look at where Naravanen has gone and throw him a look when I see him peeking from behind the rock. "So, you're going to the Old Forest?"

"Hmm," Treebeard rumbles, raising a knobby hand to scratch at his beard. He looks baffled, and I realize that I'm not supposed to know that. Oops. "Yes, I suppose that is right."

_Awesome_. "D'you think we can come?" I ask. "We're headed that way, anyway."

"We?" I point to Naravanen and myself, explaining that he was a friend who had never seen an Ent before. Treebeard's mossy eyebrow rises at this; I think he's never heard of an elf not knowing what an Ent is.

I would find this odd too, but it's not like the Ents are such paragons of astounding memory, you know?

Anyway, he agrees and I happily bounce my way over to Naravanen. He's still a little reluctant, so I take his hand and give a hard tug, nearly sending him crashing into me.

Clumsiness spreads, just so you know.

"Are we _really_ going to travel with the Ents?" he asks, getting on his horse and casting a wary glance at the mobile trees.

"You _did_ bet against my prediction that we'd encounter perfectly mundane things on the road, didn't you?" I grin at him. It's a little malicious, but I can't help myself. Elf –goading: such fun. "Stop acting like a little girl, my skirt isn't nearly long enough to hide you."

He flips me the finger.

Oh, the joy.

OoO

"I thought we were going to Hollin." My elven companion grumbles. I roll my eyes, not really caring if he saw. Jesus, I thought I was traveling with an adult, not a five-year-old.

"Did I say we're not?" I snap at him.

"Well, we're traveling with the Ents." He says, as if this explains everything. I snort and ask why the hell that should matter. "Because they're angling past Hollin, genius."

Oh. Well…crap.

I take a look at our surroundings and swear, turning to go talk to Treebeard. I can practically _hear_ Naravanen's smirk behind me.

I hate it when he's right.

OoO

The sun breaks through the clouds bright and dewy as Naravanen and I ride out to the remnants of the elf-village that's basically the sole reason I'm itching to go to Hollin.

It's less than a day's ride away from where the Ents have agreed to wait for us, and I intend to make the most of it. Naravanen has this weird expression on his face that I've decided to just ignore because not even the obvious concerned brooding of a hot male can detract me from my purpose. Much.

Er.

We arrive mid-afternoon. I leave Naravanen to tend to the horses, because really, I would like to have my moment and I'm sick of taking care of them all the damn time. Have _him_ get off his cute bum for a change.

Again, elf is _fine_, can't be expected to lie about the cold hard facts. Or in this case, so warm he's almost on fire.

Goddamn you, hormones.

Before you ask, Legolas has a nice bum too, but it's kind of hard to appreciate that when he's all the way on the other side of the mountains.

The place is solemn, as I walk down old homes still bravely fighting against the bitter ebb of time. I can't help but feel small and as young as my twenty years actually are, standing in the face of something so old. My eyes graze over everything, memorizing as much detail as I possibly can, etching this into my memory.

It's almost nightfall when I stop ruminating and take notice of my surroundings. I have no idea where my companion is, and there is a half-formed thought in my head that perhaps I should go and find him, when a tinkling catches my attention.

I turn around, hoping to identify where it's coming from. Ah, there we go. It's coming from one of the more well-preserved dwellings at the very edge of the village, where a thick curtain of bells still hung, tinkling serenely in the breeze.

There is a sweet, haunting quality to the music and I find myself drawn towards it, eager to step inside and I don't know exactly…maybe escape from the darkness of the night?

My hand reaches for the door, a voice in the back of my mind saying this is a bad idea, but it's drowned out by the strange, scintillating melody.

"Sam, _no!"_ I hear Naravanen cry before I'm thrown, quite rudely I might add, into a nearby tree. It's a very old, brittle tree and it snaps against my weight, sending me toppling to the ground. Fuck, that's going to bruise tomorrow.

"What the fuck?" I wail, clutching my head. "What'd you do that for?"

"You would have gotten yourself killed." He snarls. Like, _actually_ snarls at me. The nerve! Who the hell is he to go around snarling at me?

"How in the hell do you know that?" He doesn't answer my question, merely picks me up and dusts me off before walking to the door and kicking it in so fast it makes my head spin. I nearly fall on my ass when I see a large, heavy blade fall to the floor in the general manner that means there'd have been a Sam-kebob if I had walked through that door.

I gape at him for two minutes before repeating my question with increased vehemence.

He saves my life and _again_ I'm presented with cause to doubt my trust in him. I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. Ugh.

"_Well_?" I demand after his silence lasts for more than ten minutes. Must not reach for Keiko.

I swear to God, if he doesn't say anything within the next ten seconds I will not be held liable for my actions.

"I lived here for a time, long ago." He finally answers, teeth gnashing together, looking like giving out this information is killing him.

I glare darkly at him. "And you refrained from telling me this _why_?" My voice belies a calm I don't possess. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"Yes, actually." He says waspishly, folding his arms over his chest. "If you had not been so damn curious, this could have been avoided altogether."

"So you lived here, huh? Nice place; can't imagine why you'd want to hide it from me." My gaze is level with his, glaring daggers through his skull.

"My affairs are none of your business." He snaps. I let out a huff of righteous indignation at the sight of him so genuinely angry.

"You know what," my voice is escalating at a rapid pace. "I have had it up to here with you! You like to talk big, don't you Naravanen? You drone on and on about how I should trust you but you don't feel like I deserve the same courtesy. What are you hiding?"

"The elves keep their own counsel."

Bloody fucking _hell_.

"Newsflash, asshole!" I explode. "You're _not_ a real elf! You may look like one and possess the skin of one, but you're a _human_, just like me, and from the looks of the place you used to live in, you're not even much of one."

"You do not _know_ me." He says through gritted teeth.

I turn on my heel and walk away, pausing briefly to say. "You're right Naravanen, I don't know you. I thought for a while that maybe I was getting close to, but clearly, like everything else you've said to me since we met, that was a lie."

I find Charcoal and hoist myself into the saddle. I ride hard and I don't look back.

**a/n: I have such smart readers, it's really kind of amazing. Thoughts?**


	42. A train wreck of epic proportions

**a/n: So um, hi you guys! Don't hate me for this one!**

**Chapter 42: A train wreck of epic proportions.**

**-Sam-**

I somehow find myself in Treebeard's branches when I ride into their encampment, my head cushioned by a large patch of downy leaves. I'd like to say that I'm not crying, but that would be a lie, and I just don't have the energy. I know it's stupid of me to be shedding tears for someone my gut told me I shouldn't trust in the first place but it _sucks_ to be proven right. And I have to say, it really fucking stings that the first, and probably only, other person I've met here that's from home had to be an utter bastard.

Thanks universe, this is really helping me keep my faith in humanity.

Treebeard, bless his bark, quickly snatched me off the ground and put me on his shoulder, humming a soft tune that reminded me of warm sunlight slowly bathing the hills and trees with its golden glow.

It's morning when I wake up, surprisingly rested given the position I fell asleep in. No cricks in the neck or anything!

"Hm, _hoom_, good morrow little hasty sapling." My host greets in his slow, deliberate way. I smile and stretch my arms out behind me, wondering how I could have ever found the old ent to be creepy. We've started traveling now I think, if the slow, steady swaying of the trees and the crunch of the soil and rock underneath their rooty feet is anything to go by.

"Treebeard, where's my horse?" I ask, nearly falling out of his branches as I search for my beloved stallion.

"Hmm, he is with dark-as-nightsky-elf, riding a little beyond with Quickbeam." He points to where one of the younger of the ents is walking briskly next to Naravanen who has tied Charcoal to Claire's reins.

"You shouldn't have let him take my horse." I say glaring darkly at the head of dark hair.

"And why," a creak shudders through him. "is that?"

I exhale loudly. "Because he's a no-good, lying, two-faced scumbag whose ass I am going to kick once I get down from here."

He lets out his booming, shuddering laugh again. "Ah, do not be so hasty, hmm. One must never, _mrrhh_, be so eager to dole out hate and punishments."

"But he _lied_ to me, Treebeard." I protest. "He told me I could trust him and I _can't_."

"Don't be so hasty, _brurarum_." He said again, plucking me from his shoulders and setting me down on the ground. "I told little yellow elfling much the same thing, _hoom_."

Treebeard, you say much the same thing to _everyone. _Why do all entities older than me see fit to shower with me with such cryptic sayings?

OoO

It's been three weeks. Three weeks and he and I _still_ haven't said a word to each other. I'm still pretty pissed at him because he _honestly_ expects me to have blind faith in him just because we're from the same timespan. Well, fuck you, Naravanen.

It doesn't help that we've not made much progress with our journey. The ents, while capable of covering a great many leagues in a short amount of time are well…an 'unhasty' folk and they're kind of prone to stopping to smell the roses every two or three days.

At first I thought it was awesome but now I have to admit it's just kind of annoying. I'm getting really bored. I've done a lot of sketching during the times that we've stopped and now I don't have anything else to draw. Like…I'm all out.

I need to see new things.

Preferably before I go crazy and stab myself in the eye with a pencil. So while it's against my better judgment and my fangirl instincts, I approach Treebeard and politely tell him that I'd meet him by the Old Forest in a few days because I wanted to check out the neighboring people village in Minhiriath.

"I had forgotten, little hasty sapling," he loves calling me that, have you noticed? "that it is difficult for the hasty folk to abide by the pace of the ents."

I crack a grin. "A little bit, yes."

"Hm, _hoom_, well then, be careful on your way."

OoO

"You're not going anywhere without me, you know." I whirl around, a glare contorting my face as Naravanen approaches me, leading Claire in tow. "I promised your future sister-in-law that I'd make sure you came home alive."

"For the sake of both our sanity, Sketch, could you _please_ just leave me alone?" I plead, rubbing my temples wearily.

He doesn't comment on my calling him 'Sketch', which I think is a pretty smart move considering I'd be more than happy to let him pick a name among the numerous lists I've composed, of which Sketch is by far the nicest. "No."

Fuck you, asshole.

I swing myself onto Charcoal and dig my heels into his sides, galloping off into the distance. Eat my dust, loser.

I doubt I'll actually lose him, because Naravanen is extremely, annoyingly, infuriatingly persistent, but that doesn't mean I'll make it easy.

OoO

"How long will you be staying, my lady?" the land lord asks. I've reached the village situated about halfway into Minhiriath, with no foreseeable sign of Sketch. He'll probably turn up later but for now, I'll be damned if I don't enjoy the respite.

"A week." I tell him. "Perhaps less."

"The lady is journeying somewhere specific?" he asks, hurriedly adding when he realizes how he sounds. "I beg your pardon, I ask only because we very rarely get visitors during this time of the year. Or any time of the year, truth to tell." He looks a little embarrassed. "We are quite out of the way for most everyone but rangers."

I grin at his rambling. A man after my own heart, lovelies! "I'm just passing through." I supply. "I'm on my way to the Shire, up north."

His eyebrows shoot up when I mention the Hobbit-realm but if he finds my traveling there strange, he speaks no further of the matter. "If you do decide to stay the week, my lady, our harvest festival is to take place soon, if you've a care for such a thing."

I smile up at him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Master?"

"Elenclair, my lady." He answers, taking down my name in his logbook and motioning for someone with a snap of his fingers. A pretty girl who looks about sixteen helps me carry my bags to my room.

"Is there anything else you need, Miss?" she asks as she lays down my things on the bed. The room is bright and homey, with furniture that practically gleamed in their cleanness. I suddenly feel filthy.

"A bath would be fantastic." I smile at the girl. "What's your name?"

"I am Morwen, if it pleases you my Lady." She curtsies. I feel awkward.

"You don't have to do that." I say, holding up two hands. "It feels odd, considering I'm only a few years older than you. I'm Sam; you can just call me Sam."

She looks horrified at the thought. "Oh, but t'would not be proper, Miss!" she cries, a perfect picture of indignation.

"It's only us here, though." I point out. She bites her lip thoughtfully before stepping into the bathroom to see to my bath.

I heave a dejected sigh and rummage around in my things to find some suitable clothing. "Are all the ladies of Rohan like you, Miss?"

I give up; she's never going to drop the titles. "Rohan?"

"Yes." She nods vigorously. "My brother told me your steed was so noble it could only have come from the Horselords themselves."

"That's true but I'm not from Rohan." I don't look Rohirric in the least. They're predominantly blonde and Scandinavian-looking, more Tasha than Sam, in all honesty. "Only my horse is; he was a gift from a friend."

He was! Sort of. I can hear the rush of water into a tub. "You are not from the riddermark, then?" her tone is puzzled.

"No, I'm from Gondor."

"You do not sound like a Gondorian," she mutters. I peek through the door and watch her shoveling coals underneath the tub. This girl sure has a lot of opinions for such a young kid. She smiles brightly when she sees me in the doorway, eyeing Keiko with eyes as large and round as saucers. "Do all the women of Gondor travel so armed?"

I laugh. "No, I'm just the one exception."

Morwen straightens up eyeing me with respect. "Your bath, my lady." She says inclining her head in a bow as she closes the door behind her. "There is a tavern downstairs, to the left of the main hall, if you'd like to join in a little merrymaking."

The door clicks shut after her, and I am left to wonder, oddly, if she thinks I drink like a fish.

OoO

You know what? I'd forgotten how nice it is to just be by yourself and think. I can actually hear myself think (not that I couldn't before, but it feels like now someone's turned the volume up) and it's…peaceful.

What? Not buying it? Who said I was looking for your validation?

Oh _fine_. So, I'm bullshitting you. Get off my case. I know he was a jerk and a creep and he lied to me but we've been traveling for four months together, you kind of get used to each other after a period that long. I've also never traveled alone before, if you'll remember, and while the prospect of going out there alone doesn't daunt me, it can get a little lonely.

I mean half the fun is in having someone around to call you crazy, otherwise it gets boring, and I'm not nearly secure enough in my own insanity to call myself crazy.

Tomorrow's the village's harvest festival and my last day here, and I still haven't seen hide nor hair of Sketch. It's very odd because I expected him here three hours after my own arrival. I'm still mad at him, don't get me wrong, but I'm also sort of worried that he's been eaten by a warg or something.

He may be a jerk but there are prettier ways to leave this mortal coil than being eaten by a wolf on steroids.

I walk into the inn's tavern, The Golden Duck, where Morwen's older brother Morvan leads me to a table by the door. The people are drinking, some of them singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs. I chuckle as the words get increasingly more inappropriate.

"Your food, Sam." Morvan says, setting down a tray with a flourish. I thank him.

"Wait." I grab his arm, examining my food. "I didn't order a brew."

"No indeed." He says with a nod. "A gentleman sent it. With his compliments."

He points to the other side of the room, by the far and then drops me a wink before hurrying away to take another order. Cheeky little oaf. Still, he's a lot better than his sister who seems to have taken it into her head that I'm some sort of warrior princess.

Uh, yeah, Xena's _so_ not my thing.

"They have a good brew, sourpuss." A voice from high above me assures. I look up to see the devil himself.

"Sketch." I say coolly. I told you I'm still mad at him; I'll save my sigh of relief for later. "You're late."

This seems to please him, and I note in a detached manner, mind you, that his smile makes him look younger, more wholesome and not at all like the dark and brooding front has he always seemed to present. "Ah, so you were expecting me?"

I shrug. "Where there are kids there will be pedophiles."

"I resent that." He frowns.

"I don't care about your resentment." He winces at this and heaves a sigh.

"Sam," his voice is soft and his shoulders are slumped down in defeat. "I'm sorry."

I let out a snort. "For what, exactly?" I ask disinterestedly, leaning my face into my hand and poking at my food. "That you tried to play me, or that I found out you did?"

"Both, I guess." He admits. "Look, will you come and take a walk with me? Just…give me a chance to explain."

"Why can't you do it here?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Because you can barely hear me as it is." He points out, and a swell of a particularly bawdy song rises amongst the crowd, emphasizing his point.

I clench my jaw and look at him calculatingly. If he tries anything, I have two daggers hidden in my boot that he's never seen. "Fine."

OoO

He doesn't take me far, only to the stables, where the exuberance of the townsfolk is drowned out by the cover of night. "Look Sam," he begins, scratching his head and heaving a heavy sigh. "I'm not a sharing type of person. I've been on my own so long, I don't think I remember how to let people in."

That's an understatement if I've ever heard one.

"I'm not asking you to go breakfast club on me, Sketch. I never did." I tell him, walking over to a low wooden fence and climbing on top of it. "Everyone has secrets, and I never expected you to be an exception to that rule. Honestly, I'm not angry that you were hiding things, I'm angry because we've been traveling for nigh on four months now and you've been prattling on about how I should trust you because you're worthy of that trust, and then you go and pull a stunt like this. What, did you think it was easy to trust you in the first place?"

"You wanted to go to Hollin," he protests weakly. "What would you have had me do?"

I shake my head and let out a bitter laugh. "Tell me the truth." I point out like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Evidently not to him, but still. "Look, you've been here for five years, of course you'd have old haunts, but see the thing is, I don't _care_ where you've lived, okay? If you'd have told me that you didn't want to go to Hollin because you had bad memories of the place or something, I would have been fine with that. Like you said, I've been there before, and it's no big deal to go back one day when I'm alone."

He comes to stand beside me, leaning against a pillar and putting his face in his hands. "You _really_ didn't even think about that, did you?" His expression says it all and I can't help but laugh. "What are you _hiding_, Sketch? What could possibly be so bad that you have to resort to this stupidity?"

"I can't tell you." He snarls through gritted teeth. "I _can't_, even if I wanted to."

I scoff. I am so sick of this. He doesn't want to tell me. Fine. What the fuck ever. I hop off the fence and dust myself off. "Where are you going?"

"I am going back to my room." I tell him shortly, giving him a look to make him let go. He doesn't. This guy really doesn't know when to let up. "This conversation is getting us nowhere. We don't trust each other, and I really don't feel comfortable traveling with someone who would hide something that could get me killed just so he doesn't look suspicious."

I wrench my arm out of his grasp and stalk off. "Wait." He calls desperately. "Sam, just wait."

"What for?" I ask, moving to walk away again. My tone is no longer anywhere near the state of Angry, population:20, it's traveled to the neighboring county of Mocking, where I'm pretty sure I'm mayor of. "It's not like you'll tell me the truth if I did."

The dark-haired elf darts in front of me, effectively halting me in my tracks. "I can't tell you what I've done since I got here." I make a derisive noise and he gives me a pained look. Like a puppy that's just been kicked. Goddamn him. "No, I mean I _physically_ cannot."

"And why is that?" I quirk a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"I don't remember much of my first few months here," he begins after a while. It's a good thing he started when he did too, because I was about to punch him in the face for saying something cryptic and just leaving me hanging. "I've tried to recall it, but I can't. I think it's my brain's way of telling me that it's not something I want to remember."

"If that's true then how did you know about that booby-trapped door?" Ah, chink in the armor.

"Because I set it up." This story is confusing me so much. I think it was apparent on my face because he continues on to explain. "I buried someone there, a girl named Claire."

Oh great more cockamamie and bull—wait, what? "Claire as in your horse?"

He chuckles. "Her namesake, yes."

"What happened to her?" I ask in spite of myself. "How'd she die?"

"Physically?" he inquires his tone bitter. "I don't know. It's part of that blank period in my memory, but she died before we ever came here."

I sense a discourse coming. Yes, I have spidey-senses now when it comes to that kind of thing. What? Someone's gotta keep things lively around here.

Alright, alright, I'm stopping.

"Life back home was never easy, you know? Mom was never home, Dad was always drunk, Sunday dinner always involved a shouting match between the three of us and well, it sucked but there was nothing I could do. Claire was my best friend." He smiles fondly; walking back a little ways and leaning back to look at the stars. "I've known her since we were seven, when she moved to the house next door and told me she needed to borrow my beach ball to give her Barbie an operation. I used to sneak into their tool shed whenever shit back home became too much, and we'd play Crash Bandicoot until everything just went away."

Hmm, sounds like my kind of kid.

"You remind me a lot of Claire, actually. Stubborn, strong-willed, incredibly enigmatic…" He drops me a wink. "Except she was nicer to me."

Smooth, Sketch. Real smooth. I am rolling my eyes, yes.

"So what happened?" I ask, folding my hands across my chest.

"Life happened." He says simply, followed by the most jaded shrug I've ever seen. Wow, didn't know that could be accomplished. "She and a friend of mine, Danny, started going out and it caused a rift between us. We had an almighty row about it. She said I was jealous, and looking back, I guess I was." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me, his expression inscrutable in the darkness. "It was just odd for me, you know? For half our lives, ever since her dad walked out on them, I'd been the only guy in her life and I guess I'd gotten so used to having her for myself, I just didn't want to share."

"I hope she kicked your ass for that." I state fervently. I do not abide by that kind of possessiveness, best friend or not.

"She did." He laughs. "It wasn't that I didn't like Danny, but he had a lot of issues; the kind of issues that a girl should stay far, _far_ away from, but she wouldn't hear any of it."

"Girls can get pretty blind when it comes to the objects of their affections." Oh sweet lord, why am I encouraging this? I should just keep my trap shut and let him do the talking so I can get some sleep and decide if I should ditch him or keep him.

He nods, his face turning somber. "Yeah, so blind that she got raped at a party."

My head whips towards him so fast I actually hear the wind whizzing in my ears. "Oh my god," I breathe. "That's horrible. What'd you do to him?"

Jesus, I've been almost raped twice and I was terrified out of my mind. I still fully maintain that the reason I'm so batshit crazy is because of that night at Spring Fling, but I digress. Imagine how mind-blowingly horrifying it must be to actually have it happen.

"Took a four-by-four and rammed it between his legs and his head." I freeze, looking at him askance because I wasn't sure if he was serious. He shrugs. "I was livid with anger, Sam. I wasn't thinking clearly."

A cold breeze ripples past us, making me shiver. "A four-by-four can kill a man, Sketch."

"I almost did." He admits, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up at the evenness of his tone. It's like he doesn't even care; like he's telling me that the sky is blue and the grass is green. Men are such strange creatures. "He _raped_ her, Sam. She trusted him and he all but killed her. Do you know what happened to her after that night? She was little more than a ghost, an empty shell. It killed me to see her so lifeless, knowing that if only I'd pressed my case a little harder, protected her a little better, I could have prevented it."

"It wasn't your fault." I tell him, frowning. "What happened was a terrible tragedy, but it wasn't your fault that she didn't want to hear anything bad against Danny; she was a big girl, and you did right by her in the end, didn't you? Buried her in middle earth and made sure she was protected from everything."

Silence reigns for a while, neither of us knowing what to say until he nudges my shoulder. "I really am sorry, you know. I didn't mean to put you in danger."

I shrug, rubbing my arms to facilitate a little warmth as the night's chill settled around us. "Yeah, I know."

He looks at me and rolls his eyes, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me back to the inn. "Come on, skin and bones, you should go and get some sleep."

I dig an elbow into his side for the jibe about my weight. I'm perfectly healthy, thank you. "I still don't trust you, you know."

His smile slides off his face and he regards me seriously. "I know, but at least now everything's out in the open."

I leave him at the foot of the stairs, my thoughts churning like an ocean during a storm. What do I do now?

OoO

**-Naravanen-**

The night air is colder now, and still, very still, just the way I like it. It's easier to move in the darkness, easier to hear and stalk. I wait until I hear Sam's bedroom door close shut and then make my way around back, where a woman sits waiting for me underneath a tree.

"Well," she asks, ever the impatient one. "Did she buy it?"

I grin, sharp and feral. "Hook, line and sinker."

She lets out a sound of delight, her small frame practically shaking in anticipation. "I gotta hand it to you, cousin-dear, you really know how to play 'em."

Oh, she has no idea. The real kicker is that Sam _knows_ deep in her gut that I'm not trustworthy, that every move I make, and every word I say sends tremors through her memory but come tomorrow, she'll still say yes when I ask to come, because I know her, and Sam has never been able to resist a bad boy.

"It's a gift." I tell her silkily, inspecting the edge of my cloak.

She waves a hand dismissively at me, standing up and looking me squarely in the eye. "Don't mess it up, this time, Art. I don't care what you do to her, but I want that slut out of the picture."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Oh, and _who's_ the slut? You open your cave of wonders to anyone that comes knocking."

Even in the dark, I can see her flushing. A spark of pride ignites in my stomach. "She put you away and you're _still_ defending her honor." She snarls like she can't believe she's hearing this. "You really must be fucking crazy."

I bare my teeth at her. "Absolutely."

**a/n: I would like to apologize to GantuShmantu 2.0 for playing this as I did, but it wouldn't work any other way. No hatin'?**

**Anyway, your thoughts, I need them because while Sam may not need your validation, I do. Let me know if I should drop this plot twist or not, yeah? Awesome. Keep rocking. Will probably have the next chapter up by next weekend or the middle of next week, which is, you know, pretty stellar, right? We have hobbits!  
**


	43. A shortcut to hobbits

a/n: ON TIME, YES! AND NOW, NEXT UPDATE WHEN WE REACH 390 REVIEWS, PLZ? AWESOME.

**Chapter 43: A shortcut to Hobbits.**

Oh, sleep in a warm, soft bed, there is nothing like you in all the world. The thing about traveling you see, especially in such a vast expanse of land, is that there are very few inns and they're usually situated far between each other. I mean, I've been on the road for four months now and I haven't slept in a bed for three and a half.

Trust me; the great outdoors doesn't seem so great after you wake up with a rock poking into your back three nights in a row.

You might think that this self-same thought would have occurred to Sketch but apparently, he's had one too many hits to the head since he is _knocking on my door, bloody hell._

"_What_?" I snarl, throwing the door open.

"Whoa," he says, taking a step back and raising two hands defensively in front of him. "I see your temperament only gets sweeter in the morning."

I flip him the bird. He laughs. Asshole. "May I say that you look simply ravishing today?" his voice is like spun sugar. I am suddenly aware of how my hair is sticking up in all directions and that I probably look like a dragon: scaly and ready to breathe fire at any given moment. I slam the door in his face.

"When you're ready, I'll be waiting for you downstairs." He calls from the hallway, the laughter evident in his voice. "The bazaar is starting."

I glare daggers through the door until I hear his footsteps fade away and only then do I march into the bathroom to get ready. Screw him, he can wait.

OoO

Whoo boy, it's like Santa came to town and had a party with the Easter bunny. Everything's decked out in color and there's a legion of tents set up in the town's center, where everything is just bustling with excitement. I find Naravanen standing underneath a tree by the inn. More like leaning, but hey that's his shtick, who am I to be picky about that sort of thing?

Most elves have their own shtick. No really, it's something I've noticed. The Twins have their freaky mind link and finishing each other's sentences and always getting into trouble, Arwen has this expression that makes you want to kill puppies and kittens in her name, Hal has that insufferable stoic thing and Legolas has the Plexiglas stare.

Bloody infuriating race, are elves.

"Women," he grumbles when he sees me coming. "They always take so goddamn long to do everything."

That is totally not the best thing to say to a girl you just roused out of bed before she's ready. I slow down, counting a good ten Mississippi's before I take a step. His expression has changed from miffed to murderous by the time I've reached his side. My grin is actually a smirk, but don't tell anyone.

We make our way down to the bazaar and I have to admit that my head is just buzzing with all the noise and activity. It's kind of good to be among people again, even though I hate being stared at and people usually have a tendency to do just that. Whatever, you know? I'm sick of having just Sketch for company, I think.

We stroll through the stalls, smiling brightly at the merchants peddling their wares. Well, _I'm_ smiling; Sketch is just sort of…there. Men.

"A pretty dress for a pretty lady?" an old woman coaxes, stepping out of a shady tent and into the warm sunshine. I offer a smile and begin to shake my head but she's already taken hold of my hand. "Come, come, I have the finest dresses in all the land. None but the elves can rival it."

I shoot Sketch a look; a plea for help but I think we've established that he is a traitorous rogue, so I shouldn't even have bothered. He just shoots me a grin and shoves his hands into his pockets and saunters after me, calm and lazy as can be. Son of a bitch.

The old woman shoves dress after dress at me, and pretty soon I have a pretty daunting pile in my hands. I didn't know Middle Earth was familiar with the concept of ready-to-wear dresses, and it's just my luck that I'd happen to stumble into the one place where I can get dresses off the rack. Dresses that I don't even particularly want.

Ugh.

You're really not working with me here, Powers that Be.

I once again try to offer up a protestation at the hell that is being forced upon me but no sooner do I open my trap when I am shoved, quite rudely if I'm honest, behind a large silk screen in order to try on the dresses. Middle earth has some freakishly strong old ladies, I gotta tell you. It must be all the leafy greens and the fresh air; it makes them bionic.

"I'm not going to model these for you two, you know." I tell both the woman and Sketch, who I know are both sitting on the other side of the tent, probably giggling to themselves at my predicament.

The old woman gives a mad cackle and waddles over to me, selecting a cream dress with exquisite green trimmings. "Here," she says, winking. "This shall bring out the color of your eyes magnificently. Your lord will not know what hit him."

I immediately color and choke on the air. "He's not my lord." I babble. "He's not my _anything_, really. That's kind of disgusting; we're just traveling together."

Again with the mad cackle. I'm itching to ask if she's maybe got witch-blood in her. "Half-truths are still truths, megirl." She says and she waits until I change before saying, "You'll be wanting these in good, sturdy boxes I expect."

When the hell did I even say I was buying the damn things?

OoO

I end up buying five dresses from that little old lady. Two of them for me, and one each for Arwen, Eowyn and Maia.

"She swindled me." I complain to the elf who has been relegated to the duty of bag-carrier, like every male who has made the stupid, albeit sometimes charming and endearing, mistake of accompanying a female shopping.

He shifts his hold on the boxes and regards me grumpily. "I don't see why _you're_ complaining, you've got a perfectly good pack mule, right here, and apparently money's no object to you."

"Money _is_ an object." I retort wrinkling my nose. "And perfectly good pack mules don't talk so bloody much."

He groans audibly as I pause to inspect a jeweler's wares, completely entranced by the display of earrings and necklaces. I left the necklace Galadriel gave me back in Gondor and I kind of miss having something around my neck to tinker with. Also, _holy crap_ those earrings are gorgeous.

"You see something you like?" Sketch asks. That may have been sarcasm in his tone but whatever, I don't care. My eyes are captivated by a necklace, wrought in silver, with a beautifully carved jade butterfly, the size of my thumbnail for a pendant. I'm almost afraid to ask how much it is; it looks simple but heartbreakingly expensive. "Sam?"

Sketch's voice breaks into my thoughts and I tear my eyes away, shaking my head. "No, no I'm cool."

I grin widely at him for good measure and grab a box from the pile in his arms, the heavy thudding indicating that these are one of my new boots, and head back to the inn, to ask about securing my packages on Charcoal's back.

OoO

"You still haven't stopped calling me Sketch." He points out a day or two into the road. We're following the line of the river until we get to the downs, and within sight of the Old Forest. It should be less than four hours until we get there, and then I plan to just yell off into the sunset that I intend to visit good old Tom Bombadil.

What? Don't look at me like that, I've said before that I wanted to visit them, didn't I? They should open a spa or something. Yellow Boots Face and Body Spa. It'd be a hit, don't lie.

Oh, shoot, Sketch was asking me something. "Huh?" I should be celebrated for my rapier wit and eloquence.

"Sketch, you still call me Sketch." He repeats, rolling his eyes. "Why?"

Oh. I shrug. "Easier."

"Easier?" he echoes, puzzled.

"Yeah," another shrug. "Naravanen is such a bloody long name. Sketch is easier to pronounce, less syllables."

He gives me a look. "Your laziness knows no bounds." I grin brightly at him and cackle madly into the noonday sun.

I think that old woman really was a witch. And apparently witchery is contagious. Fuck.

OoO

I want brownies.

Holy shit, I really, really miss brownies. The bite-sized ones that are chockfull of dark, smoky cocoa and baked till it's crunchy on the outside and soft and gooey on the inside, oh _god_, my mouth is watering at the very thought.

"I miss Starbucks." Sketch grumbles, lip curling. Still haven't figured out how to keep my mouth shut. "I miss their cheesecake and the espresso and frappes."

Fuck, I miss that too.

"I miss pizza." I put forth, smiling smugly at the pained look on his face. "And Chinese take-out."

"I miss donuts." He says finally. "Especially the ones from Krispy Kreme. I don't care if they were sickly sweet; I _liked_ all that sugar coming to die in your mouth."

I groan. "Ugh, I want donuts _right_ now. Donuts and a good old economy size—"

"Slushy." He finishes knowingly.

"_Yes_." I nod, surprised. "How'd you know I was going to say that?"

Most people can't handle that much sugar in one sitting, but Tasha and I, well, we could eat our weight in sugar, and then some. Of course there was one other person I used to have donuts and slushies with, but we won't talk about him.

"I really like sugar." Sketch says simply. He sits up in his saddle and points triumphantly. "Look, there it is!"

I rip my gaze from his face to the horizon and a smile spreads slowly across my face. I could see the Old Forest, rising dim and dark in the horizon. On some level, I guess it should have been foreboding, but I could see a lone figure on a dapple gray pony atop a hill, waving in a jolly manner. His boots were bright as sunshine.

"Last one to the hill is a rotten egg." I tell Sketch happily, as Charcoal jumps into the air and towards Tom. "Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow; Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow."

Couldn't help myself, sorry. This is once again me, geeking out.

"Hey, now, where be you a-going?" he greets, red cheeked and grinning. "I am Tom Bombadil. The ents came knocking on my door today, before I came a-wandering! 'A friend of ours is come today,' they said. 'Sam with hair as black as night and eyes as green as grass in spring.'" He fixes me with a gaze of bright, bright blue. "Eh, that be you, isn't it? Tom's eyes they do not deceive."

"That's me alright." I say proudly, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "It's wonderful to meet you Master Tom."

"Excellent, excellent!" he cries gaily. "You are coming home with me, little daughter. You and friend can put your feet up and rest weary heads but first there are songs to sing and Goldberry is waiting!"

He giddies up his horse (Fatty Lumpkin, you guys!) and canters off over the hill and I pat Charcoal's neck and shoot Sketch a smile before following after him.

OoO

I think I'll be trying to find the right words to describe my time at Tom Bombadil's house because I feel that nothing I can say does it justice. When I say that it was the most mind-blowing, exhilarating experience ever, you'd have to multiply my sentiments by a thousand to even come close to what I'm trying to convey.

It's just…transcendent.

I think I'm going to stop talking about it now, because if I try any harder I might pop a vein, and Sketch says I'm looking dangerously close to turning blue in the face.

We're riding deeper into the forest now, past the house of Master Bombadil where the River-daughter resides, and off to meet Treebeard who has, yes, you guessed it, _found the entwives_. I did a little jig when I found out. The ents are like this well—not _dying_ breed, per se but they are perilously few, since a lot of the ents have gone treeish, but now they can have entings again and I don't know about you guys, but I _totally_ want to see a baby ent.

I can tell the horses had a splendid time with Fatty Lumpkin too. (Fatty Lumpkin, you guys!) In any case, both Charcoal and Claire are more energetic and the forest doesn't daunt them quite as much as I expected it too.

The Old Forest is a lot like Fangorn, I suppose, only darker and there are a lot more sinister trees here. I suppose that makes sense since Eriador was part of the older kingdoms, wasn't it? Yes, I think it was. And at any rate, it's nearer to the sea and was probably home to Elves before Fangorn came into being.

"The ents are here." Sketch informs me, interrupting my train of thought. I look up to see the tree-herders looming high above me. One of them, with his trailing beard of lichen, is unmistakably Treebeard and the other with hair of curling ivy and a crown of white flowers is well…an entwife.

"Hmm, well met little hasty sapling." Treebeard greets, happily. "We have found the entwives."

I grin. "I can see that." I bow to his companion. "It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Sketch gives me a little kick. I keep forgetting he's with me, heh.

OoO

It's late afternoon when we finally find the path to the gate entering Buckland. Unimpressed? We started our journey this morning. The Old Forest is ridiculously hard to navigate, even when given express instruction and permission by the Herders of the Forest. It's pretty ridiculous, if you ask me.

Anyway, I'm really glad we're here because I cannot wait to see the Hobbit Brigade again; I've missed them like crazy.

Now if only we could find the damn gate.

OoO

I've gotten off my horse now because my bum hurts from all the sitting and Charcoal needs me to lead him so he doesn't stumble on the undergrowth. We _still_ haven't found the gate. I've already shouted at the trees to let us out but no dice.

"You never had problems like this in Firien." Sketch grumbles, reaching out and holding my waist to keep me from falling face-forward as a root trips me. I bare my teeth at it. Who said I liked _you_, huh?

"No," I agree. "You just had a minor orc infestation."

"Hey, that was easily seen to!" he protests, grinning. I snort and open my mouth to retort that it doesn't count for much that the problem was destroyed when he did it after I'd nearly been skewered by an orc-blade but a collective groan interrupts the flow of words, making me squeak instead. The trees are moving.

"Oh, shit." The elf tugs on the horses' reins and steps in front of me. I frown and thump him on the back.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss, tugging on the back of his tunic.

He looks at me like I'm insane, and I feel the need to tell him that he should know by now that I'm absolutely batshit. "I'm protecting you, genius."

That would be sweet if it weren't so backwards. "I don't need protecting, get over here and stop being a wanker."

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't heed my words, just stands turns around to face me as the trees press ever closer, a fierce expression on his face. The racket is increasing and holy shit, I can feel the anger radiating from the trees, like actually _feel _it. It's not something that can be ignored because it just washes over you, like a melody at the edge of a dream.

They press even closer. The space between Sketch and the trees is barely two feet now. Oh sweet lord, he's going to get crushed. "Sketch, stop being an idiot, the trees are going to crush you."

Seriously, what the hell is it with men and acts of machismo? I don't get it. Why do they feel like they constantly have to prove that they're stronger when times of extreme stress arise? It drives me nuts.

"Shut up and let yourself be saved, you lunatic." He snarls. Jeez you guys, what'll it take for me to hammer it into this kid's head that I am not someone who takes orders of any kind in a constructive manner?

Oh, hang on, this should probably do it.

"Fuck it." I snarl right back, pushing him roughly off me. I shift my heated glare, which had been focused on the elf's stupid, protective, sorry excuse for a hide and shift it to the encroaching trees, planting my hands on my hips. "Shame on you; you call yourselves trees and spurn all that walk on two legs because they do nothing but cause murder to your kind and yet you're going to do the same thing! My companion and I have _permission_ from the herders of this forest, and if you don't let us through to the gate, then so help me, I will call Tom Bombadil and you can bet that he will sing all of your roots off, and that'll be nothing compared to the talking to that Treebeard will give you afterwards."

The nearest tree to me quivers, _actually_ quivers and I nearly dissolve into giggles because who thought my throwing a tantrum would actually keep them at bay? God_damn_, I love Middle Earth.

The trees slowly part after that, and the gate is revealed. I wink at Sketch and smile smugly as I lead Charcoal out of the Old Forest of Nasties. Honestly? I think it's all in the tone.

OoO

Oh _great_.

One roadblock after another, ugh. I can't believe the damn gate is locked. I understand that there's no love lost between the hobbits and the Old Forest and its creepy, leafy denizens but you would think that after Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam had their little adventure here they'd be a little more mindful of it. I'm going to give the future Master of Brandy Hall a smack upside the head when I next see him.

"Hello!" I call, giving the gate another bang. "Hello out there in hobbitland, can anyone hear me?"

Clearly, there's no one out there but there's absolutely no reason why I should give up just because I don't have an audience. Some people say 'crazy', I say 'incredibly persistent'. I grab Keiko by the scabbard and use her hilt to bang loudly at the gate, like a beggar banging for alms at a rich man's mansion.

Wow, I'm glad I didn't say that last phrase out loud. I'm pretty sure banging for alms is prostitution. Totally did not mean it that way but clearly my deprivation is doing strange things to my brain. Ugh.

"God, you never shut up, do you?" Sketch mutters looking ready to tear out his hair. For a second I wonder if I've blurted out my thoughts again but realize he's talking about my screaming and banging. I refrain from saying that as God, I should be allowed to cause as much of a ruckus as I want; you should be proud, I think it shows a lot of personal growth.

Also, nobody likes a smart-ass, apparently.

I shrug. "I do sometimes, when I sleep." I think I'm so clever, yes. Shut your face.

"Oh, goodness are there _people_ in there?" a voice asks from the other side. It sounds very scandalized. I immediately hop to my feet and peer through the gaps in the metal of the gate.

"Yes, hello!" I cry joyfully. "People here! Good, honest, non-hobbit-sized people looking for Merry Brandybuck."

There is an audible squeak and a different voice, a more familiar one, cries. "_Miss Samantha_, is that you?"

I blink rapidly before turning to Sketch. "I can't see past the damn gate." I grumble.

He shrugs. "What do you want me to do?"

Help me build a flying machine. Duh, moron. "I need you to lift me, just a tiny, tiny bit."

He rolls his eyes and mutters something about 'abusive women' and being 'not a damn monkey' but his strong arms wrap around my waist all the same and he lifts me off the ground just high enough to see Samwise Gamgee looking in bewilderment at the gate. His face instantly breaks into a huge smile when he sees me and he rushes forward to open the gate.

Sketch puts me back down on solid ground and I stand on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. He smells nice. Er. He looks at me like a deer caught in the headlights and I almost laugh. "What was that for?"

"Thanks for the help, I guess." I shrug, dropping him a wink. "See? I can be sweet."

The gate swings open and I step out of the Old Forest and take my first step into the Shire.

OoO

"You know Sam," Sketch says and immediately a human girl and a hobbit turn to him expectantly. I bite back a chortle as he looks uncomfortably at both of us and clears his throat. "This is going to be the source of a lot of confusion."

I shrug. "We'll get by. Besides, they have pet names for me, so it won't be bedlam."

Sam's companion has been staring at me since we got here. She's very pretty, with long curling hair the color of sunshine and cheeks a healthy blushing red. I smile down at her when it finally hits me who she might be. "You're Rosie, aren't you?"

"Y-you know who I am, miss?" she asks, startled.

Samwise instantly turns a lovely shade of crimson and gives me a look of warning over Rosie's shoulder. I start sniggering. "Oh yes," I sat sweetly, batting my eyes at Sam. "There was a time when Sam wouldn't shut up about you, you know."

Rosie glances at Sam, who is blushing like a tomato and mumbling under his breath (death curses sent towards me, no doubt) and takes his hand in hers. Sam looks like he's been struck by lightning and I jerk an elbow into Sketch's ribs and wink at him. "Aren't they cute?"

He smiles and rolls his eyes. "What, are you jealous? Would you like me to do the same for you?"

My smile instantly transforms into a glare. "Don't ruin the moment, Sketch. That's gross, you have cooties."

We are led past Brandy Hall, Sam and Rosie pointing out the huge establishment and telling me a little bit about the history, and a little ways away to a small homey, old house with a very round door. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam calls, rapping sharply on the door. "We've a visitor!"

"Half a minute, my dear Sam!" the former ringbearer calls from the depths of the little hobbit home. I can hear things being put away inside and the raucous laughter that can't be mistaken for anyone other than one Peregrin Took and then the door swings open to revel Frodo looking happier and healthier than I've ever seen him.

"Hiya, pardner." I drawl, clicking my tongue and winking in true blue Texan fashion. He stares at me for a few moments, looking like he's unsure if I'm actually real before jumping into my arms with a joyful cry.

"Come in, come in! Have you only just arrived?" he asks ushering me and Sketch in.

I nod, looking around the place and dying a little inside at the coziness. If all hobbit homes are like this, I might never leave, holy shit. "We would have gotten here sooner," I inform him, following as he walks into what I deem to be the dining room, where the entire hobbit brigade is assembled. "If the gate to the Old Forest weren't locked."

"COOKIE!" yells Pippin, jumping out of his chair and tackling me. Yes, Peregrin Took calls me Cookie when he thinks he can get away with it.

I answer with an equally loud, "MUFFIN!"

"But what are you _doing_ here?" he demands, peering behind me, no doubt looking for other members of the fellowship or at the very least my brothers and seeing only an unfamiliar elf. "You came _alone_?"

Why is that so surprising to everyone?

"I'm not alone." I snort, jerking a thumb to Sketch. "I brought a friend, see? His name's Naravanen. He's an elf."

I like stating the obvious. For some reason the fact that Sketch is an eldar doesn't seem to impress my hobbit friends, instead Pippin just looks at him again and then frowns up at me. "Where's Legolas then?"

Hang on maybe he's having tea in my pocket.

"You left on the same day, remember?" I point out as we are led to empty seats. Merry claps me on the back in welcome and mutters something I don't catch. "How the hell am I supposed to know where Twinkletoes is?"

"Because he told you?" Pippin puts forth innocently. "I thought he might have when he kissed you before he left."

I gape at the youngest hobbit in surprise. "How in the nine hells did _you_ know that?"

"We waited a little to watch the show." This from Merry.

Why you little…I am about to strangle both hobbits when Frodo intercedes. "Alright, let us not aggravate the lady any further on an empty stomach." He says firmly, settling down next to me. My cheeks are red as cherries again and Sketch is looking at me in a weird way. I can't tell if he's amused or if he's annoyed by the food on the table. Whatever though, there's cake! I'll get to the bottom of his aggravation later.

I looove cake.

a/n: Okay, so one more chapter till Twinkletoes comes back~ And since it's been so long since I last did it, here are some review responses!

Chaco: Don't worry, I'm pretty sure Sam will kick his butt!

Song in the woods: She will, definitely. I'm actually quite excited about it.

VeronicaD13: Fret not, Sam can take care of herself and Nair's true colors will be revealed soon enough! I'm banned from hurting Sam? Well, there goes half the plot then. Damn.

Kinz: YESM IT IS HE. Holy shit, I know, I can't believe my fic is almost middle-aged. I like your ramblings though! Feel free to inflict them upon me anytime!

DreamerYuri: She will, soon! Thank you for the feeback!

Valinor's Twilight: Art is Carmi's cousin who tried to rape Sam during Spring Fling. She had him put away in a psychiatric institution and now, well…he's baaaaaaack.

Lordytheringg11: Soon, my lovely! In the chapter after the next!

Dragons redemption: YOU MAY CERTAINLY HELP KILL THEM OFF, WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND?

Much love, y'all.


	44. Riddles in the dark

**a/n: HA! I don't know why but I really kind of hate this chapter. You guys are fast! I didn't expect to reach 390 in a week. Anyway, here you go, this chapter is kind of all over the place, view-wise because I couldn't resist. HOBBITS! Also, I'm giving three wishes away. First two people and the 400****th**** reviewer get either a one-shot from any of my fandoms or a special scene in the story. Because holy hell, 400 reviews? That's pretty amazing. Points if you can get it above 400.**

**Chapter 44: Riddles in the dark**

-Rosie-

"So tell me," she asks, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Has he asked you to marry him yet?"

_He_ is, of course, my Sam and I immediately turn magenta at the question. Samantha looks absolutely delighted at this and nudges me gently, curiosity etched into every feature of her pretty face. We are on our way to pick up a few dresses from the seamstress in the next town over. Mr. Frodo had been delighted when their lady guest had decided that the dresses of the Shire were…what were her words?

Ah yes, 'absolutely freaking adorable'.

She has been here for almost a month now and I still have no idea what to make of her. She is lovely, to be sure, both in countenance and demeanor but well, she says the _strangest_ things. Half the time, I haven't the slightest inkling what she is trying to say, and I believe the only reason why Sam and the others can converse with her is because they've gotten used to all her babbling.

Still, one cannot deny that she is a joy to be around. I have never met any of the big folk before, so I have nothing to base this by, but she is very sweet. She seems to genuinely like being around us hobbit-folk, which I am sure must not be a common thing among Men, considering most of them think our ways quaint.

"C'mon Rosie," she wheedles again, jutting out her lip in a pout. "Just between us girls, please?"

She looks so much like a little child that I cannot help but laugh. I often forget that I am actually older than her, considering our height difference. "He asked for my father's permission last night." I tell her, giving in with a girlish sigh. "We plan to tell the others tomorrow."

"Oh, my god, that's amazing!" she cries, jumping nearly a foot in the air and tackling me in a hug, She is very exuberant, I can see why she and Mr. Pippin get on so well. "Congratulations!"

She grows quiet after that, and I look up to find her staring contemplatively at the sky, her green eyes clouded over. "Is something wrong?" I tug on her arm because she doesn't seem to hear my voice.

"What?" she starts. I think she may have forgotten I was here. Sam warned me that she had a tendency to get so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she lost sight of everything else. "Oh, sorry Rosie, you lost me a little bit there."

"You seemed very deep in thought, my friend." I say. Is it odd that I perhaps consider her to be so? Her smile at my words makes me think it's no bad thing to consider her as such.

"I was just thinking how lucky you are." She says in a quiet voice. "I don't know how much any of those loon-buckets have told anyone here, but Sam Gamgee? He's a hero; if it hadn't been for him and Frodo, neither of us would be standing here right now, and I can't think of anyone who deserves happiness more than those four. I'm really glad to know that he has you, because I can feel it in my bones, you're going to have an amazing life together."

I feel the prickling of tears at her words. "Thank you." Marriage is a daunting prospect, especially to someone like Sam who has seen so much of the world and accomplished so many things. I will not lie and say that my thoughts have not kept me awake for many a night because I wondered if he would not grow bored with life in the shire, and consequently me, in the years to come. Samantha's words are the most wonderful thing to hear right now.

"Oh hey we're here, cool!" she suddenly says, looking up and skipping to the seamstress, hole. Another of her expressions I do not fully understand. I see no ice _anywhere_.

OoO

-Sam-

I'm wearing a dress.

I'm wearing an _actual_ dress with an _actual_ skirt and holy crap I look like a girl. It's very disconcerting. I feel like a tranny.

"Okay, it's official." I mutter. "I'm never coming out."

"Nonsense!" Rosie snaps from outside the room, making me jump in surprise. Uh, what the hell? I thought _elves_ had superior hearing, not hobbits! "You did not just spend your gold on those dresses for nothing, besides that, Mr. Frodo was delighted that you liked hobbit-dresses and it has been many a month since I last saw that old hobbit so cheerful."

She walks in, grabs my arm and hauls me off to the living room. Rosie Cotton, ladies and gentlemen, half hobbit, half-body builder. Hot damn, the girl is strong.

OoO

-Merry-

I think it says quite a bit about Sam's aversion to dresses, how we're all gathered in the sitting room waiting for her and Rosie to come out. It isn't something I really understand, dresses but I will have to agree with Rosie when she remarked the other day that it was very odd that Sam didn't like dresses considering she would be hard put to find a dress that wouldn't like _her_. I have chalked it up to her innumerable quirks; like how Pip is sometimes overcome with the urge to chase after bees.

"What is it about women that make them take such an absurdly long time to put on clothing?" Frodo wonders aloud as he helps himself to something called croissants that Sam made yesterday. She spent half the day in the kitchen, kneading dough until I was almost afraid for the poor table, but I had five as soon as they were cool enough to partake in, so I don't suppose I have any room to complain.

It was a very amusing sight, watching her count her bread over and over while we tried to surreptitiously wipe the crumbs from our mouths. By we, I of course mean me and Pippin.

Footsteps echo down the hall and both Rosie and Sam step forward, the latter turning redder than a tomato during harvest time. She really does not like dresses. I suppose it doesn't help any that we proceed to tease her mercilessly as soon as we see her.

"Cookie, you look like a lady!" Pippin declares clapping in delight. I have no idea how he gets away with that. I tried calling Sam after a flower once and she nearly had my head.

"I'm willing to bet five penny-pieces that that dress will be dirtied beyond recognition before tomorrow." I mutter in an aside to Pippin and Sam who are nearest me. Pippin sniggers.

Cookie glares. "I heard that, Meriadoc." She growls. I laugh; good, she was meant to. Frodo intercedes again, as per usual, before things get out of hand. Sam and I have a certain propensity to turn into young lads and tussle with each other. I blame it on the time we spent together in Rohan; the air of the horselands has done strange things to my sanity. Hers has been questionable to begin with.

I haven't seen Frodo this animated in a long while; it's a very happy happenstance. I think it's because he knows exactly how much Sam despises dresses and to have her express her liking for something of hobbit-make does his old heart proud. It makes me remember why I've learned to love Sam over the course of our travels together; she is a bright light and I certainly missed having her around.

"It suits you." Frodo assures her as she plops down next to him and steals his half-eaten croissant. He beams brightly, a mischievous glint coming into his eyes that is lost on all but us three as he adds, "'Tis a pity Legolas cannot be here to see you; I am sure he would have enjoyed the show."

Sam's mouth drops open and she slaps Frodo upside the head. She has the 'I'm going to _kill_ you dead' look she often employs whenever she's around us; the one that doesn't make her the least bit threatening, and instead makes her look like she's just been hit by lightning and we all start laughing.

"Hobbits." She mutters under her breath with an eye roll as she tucks into her tea. I feel a sharp jab in my side and turn to glare at my cousin who jerks his head towards the dark-haired elf in the corner of the room. Naravanen is his name, according to Sam, although I do not know exactly how they came to be traveling together, for I did not see him during our stay in Minas Tirith. His brows are knotted together in an uncomely frown, one that he had not been wearing mere moments ago.

He is a quiet fellow, who spends more time wandering about in the forests than he does around us shire-folk. This is not necessarily a bad thing though, for none of us like him very much. I believe Frodo said it best when he spoke about Strider that first time we met him. Although this Naravanen fellow looks fair, he feels foul, very foul.

"I do not like him at all." Pippin growls under his breath. I incline my head to agree.

OoO

-Sam-

Ow, bugger shit pie, _ow!_

"You really do need to work on your coordination." My captor tells me as he continues to drag me through the bushes at breakneck speed. It is _before_ ten, which is an hour I still consider ungodly to be woken up, and Pippin is dragging me who knows where as if the dogs of hell themselves are on our heels.

"Well, _you_ really need to stop dragging me around like a toy." I snap, trying not to stumble on a bramble bush and failing miserably. Ouch. "I'm not made for being dragged through underbrush at so early an hour."

Pippin guffaws, like this is the most hilarious thing he's ever heard. "If I may say so Cookie, if I stopped dragging you, we'd never get there in time."

I slapped him upside the head. Maybe it would help if you _told_ me where we're going, genius.

"Farmer Maggot has heard of our strange guest and wishes to meet you." He tells me as we run downhill. "It is really just as well, since Frodo has been planning to go back and see him for a while now."

My eyebrow quirks. "The farmer with the dogs?" I ask, even though I know full well who he is. "He wants to meet me?"

He nods and smirks. "Yes, Old Maggot's always been a bit odd."

Asswipe.

OoO

Augh, I feel like a beached whale. Farmer Maggot's wife made enough food to feed a small army, which is apparently what it takes to fill the stomachs of seven grown hobbits. It was the most spectacular sight, you guys. The food just kept on coming and disappearing into their mouths. All the same though, I'm glad we're headed home. I smell like Grip and Fang and I need to shower before I start to feel like mauling myself from the stench. Also, mushrooms do strange things to me. It's very odd since I've never had a problem with them, but I reckon it's some sort of latent psychological residue from being stabbed with a dagger poisoned with mushrooms.

Anyway, I haven't seen Sketch all day and I find it very odd that the hobbits didn't invite him. Don't they usually hold the eldar in high regard? And when have they been so discourteous to a guest?

"We don't like him." Pippin tells me, a belligerent scowl on his face that is very disturbing to see. "Why are you traveling with him, Sam? Legolas would pitch a fit."

Peregrin Took, ladies and gentlemen, Legosam's number one shipper.

Similar looks are on all of the hobbits' faces now and I look around at them in alarm. "What, what?" I cry indignantly. "I thought you lot _liked_ elves."

Frodo snorts at this. Like, _actually_ snorts. It would be hilarious if they weren't all righteously pissed. "That _person,_" he says scathingly. "Is no more an elf than you or I."

"What are you talking about?" I feign innocence, looking at them with the same 'are you insane?' expressions they like to use on me.

Samwise is the one that speaks up, to my complete surprise. "Oh, I think you know what we're talking about." He says looking at me astutely. "Why are you traveling with a chap like that, miss?"

What the hell. I feel like I've just walked into the twilight zone. "I don't get it, what's wrong with him?"

Merry looks at me incredulously and halts in his tracks. He looks like he's seriously contemplating throwing a shoe at me. Thank the Valar, hobbits don't wear shoes. "You mean other than how he undresses you with his eyes and ill-concealed desire?"

…Um, _what_? I've been traveling with the bloke for six months now; I think I'd notice the looks of desire if he's actually sending them my way.

"Well, you are not exactly the paragon of astute observation, my friend." Frodo points out, sagely. "Merry is exaggerating, though that does not mean his words hold no truth."

The former ringbearer turns the force of his baby blues on me before continuing. Do not underestimate the power of Frodo's baby blues; it's like magic, you're automatically compelled to scratch at that dirty part of your soul until it's clean again. Ugh. "While he does not look at you _quite_ like a wold long bereft of fresh meat, his gaze holds a strange light…one that worries me greatly. Naravanen may look like an elf, but he is not one of the eldar, of that I am quite sure."

Frodo Baggins needs to stop delving into my secret fears before he opens a can of worms that will destroy my psyche forever. Sketch can be a bit dodgy and suspicious when he doesn't want bits of his past to be dredged up but he's not all bad. In, you know the daylight. I kind of don't want to be around him under cover of darkness in enclosed spaces. But yeah, anyway, he's actually been a really fun traveling companion. He understands my references to obscure anime and random movies, okay!

"What are you _doing_ with someone like that?" this from Pippin again, who looks like how my Gran used to look as she watched me climb trees; apprehensive and very lined. I sigh wearily and try not to let the cuteness of hobbit overprotectiveness get to me. Seriously Sam, that's just what they want. They lower your barriers with their cuteness and then they strike! Thwart! Thwart~!

Losing battle, I know.

"The reason he doesn't _feel _like an elf is because he's not actually one." I admit, to Frodo's smug look. I breathe in deeply and flop onto the grass in defeat. "He's like me. We're both from the same place; that's the reason why he feels so off…so un-elflike, because he's not from around here either."

"Then why are you still human and he's an elf?"

This is a question that's been plaguing me for a while now, actually. "We don't know. I think maybe it's because it's different for each person, to come here. Like how Tasha and I came through as normal chickpeas," Merry snorts, I flip him the bird. "Carmi somehow gained the ability to wield a sword, and Naravanen became an elf. I don't know how it works, maybe he had elfly qualities in the first place and coming to Arda just brought out his baser nature; I wouldn't be surprised, since Carmi _is_ a vile, treacherous snake at heart."

Merry glowers at me in true Merry fashion. Out of all the hobbit's, the haughtiest, shrewdest, most difficult to please is the future Lord of Brandy Hall. "That still does not explain why you are _traveling_ with him."

He spits out the word traveling like it's poison, I'm kind of impressed. I've never seen him this way. "It's a sign of solidarity!" I tell them patiently. I am met with derisive snorts.

"You were not so quick to extend such a thing to the _other_ person from your world." One of them points out.

I glare. "Well, in case you've forgotten, Cami tried to _kill_ me, twice." I say testily. "It's a little difficult to extend an olive branch to a person who wants nothing more than your head on a platter."

None of them look happy but it at least shuts them up. Glory, Hallelujah!

OoO

When I open my eyes, I'm in a dimly lit hallway. The walls are lined with lockers and the floor is cold beneath my bare feet. Two years ago, I would be quaking, but right now, I'm relatively calm because I know this is a dream. A dream that I've had numerous times before. This is the first time I've had it again since I came to Middle earth, but I know it's the same dream because as I approach the darkened door of a classroom to my right, I can see the turquoise dress Tasha and I picked out for Spring Fling, reflected in the glass pane.

I start walking. Maybe it's because of the cold, or maybe it's because the thud of large, heavy footsteps are echoing behind me. I don't know. All I know is that those footsteps are like thunder, and it terrifies me to the pits of my soul.

…

Before long the walking turns to running, running from a faceless foe that had my heart pounding a deafening crescendo in my chest. The hallway stretches as far as the eye can see, as dim and dark as ever. The very sight made me weak in the knees. What clarity I had in the beginning is now gone, replaced by sheer, unadulterated panic. Something was coming, and I needed to get away.

…

I suddenly wish I had Keiko or even a dagger. Being alone and weaponless, even in my subconscious gives me the heebie-jeebies. I've been running blindly through the dark for what feels like forever now and my limbs are sore and aching and it's hard to catch your breath and keep from being found by your quarry at the same time. I've concealed myself behind the bleachers in the gym but I know how this dream goes and nothing I do, no place I hide, no matter how clever, ever seems to work.

Like I said my brain? Treacherous little thing, it is.

True to form, it doesn't take very long for a hand to close tightly around my arm, dragging me roughly from my hiding spot and slamming me hard into a wall. There is pain; even in my dreams the pain manages to ghost back to me, and then a hand at my neck where he squeezes.

"Art, Art let me _go_." I manage to choke out. "_Please_."

His eyes flash dangerously and he slams my head back, making me see stars. "Why don't you get it?" he snarls. His hand is fisting my skirt, lifting it higher as I struggle against him. "I _can't_ let you go. I love you, babe and love means never, ever letting go."

Bile. Bitter, heavy and steadily rising at the back of my throat. This is when I usually wake up. This is when the horror stops and I wrap myself up in my blanket and remind myself that it's over and that I'm safe. But it doesn't end. Instead, I find myself managing to gain enough leverage to head-butt him, sending him flying to the floor.

He looks up at me, gray eyes filled with a cold, crazy light. "You can't get rid of me, Spam. I'll come back for you, wherever you go, I'll come back." He says, using the pet name that makes my skin crawl. "You can't escape me."

And of course _this _is when I wake up. Fuck you too, little white men.

OoO

See, I _told_ you mushrooms do strange things to me. It's three in the morning and I'm wide awake, shivering heavily despite my thick quilts and blankets because of a nightmare. I feel like a child.

Jesus, I survived the War of the Ring without getting PTSD and one measly little recurring dream and I fold? Really? Am I truly that pathetic?

The vindictive little voice in my head just hissed a yes. Oh yay.

Honestly though, I don't understand why my subconscious felt the need to dredge up all those memories _now_, when they've been lying dormant for the past year. I feel like it's trying to tell me something but I can't figure out what it is. Ugh. This is going to drive me crazy.

I change into a clean pair of trousers and shrug on a tunic before slipping out of my room and into the sitting room where a low fire is still burning. I curl up on the armchair and tuck my feet underneath me, fully prepared to brood what remains of the night away. It's been a long time since I've though about Arthur. I'll be the first to admit that I've never had smooth relationships; I think I have some sort of switch that sends gonzo waves to whoever I'm dating, rendering them virtually useless.

When I'd met him, I _honestly_ though Arthur was different…that I'd finally found someone who could keep up with me without wanting to punch himself in the face. I was right, only he wanted to punch _me_, among other things.

I watch as the last dying embers flicker into darkness, another shiver running through me. I wish Legolas was here. He always knew how to make me feel better, even if most of the time it just meant him being there. I know I've basically disallowed myself from being with him, but that doesn't mean I can't miss him, right?

Stupid elf and his stupid pretty face and his stupid amazing personality. It's not fair, universe. Who said I could be you butt-monkey?

OoO

-Naravanen-

Of all the incompetent fools to ever be paired up with, it _had_ to be the one I'm related to. How the hell am I supposed to kill her, if we're of the same blood? I let out a loud exhale through my nose as I open the door and creep quietly back into Brandy Hall. It is late, and it's still going to take two hours for her goddamn spell to take full effect. _Two hours!_

I'm lucky Sam doesn't usually wake up until just a little before noon or she'd recognize me and the jig would be up. My imbecile cousin is to blame for this; all of it.

"Sketch?" I freeze, immediately closing the door behind me and cutting off any form of light. Fucking hell.

She's sitting on one of the armchairs, her entire body hidden by a cocoon of blankets. I lick my lips and thank the darkness for hiding my heavy stare. If only we were somewhere else; away from all these fat, annoying Halflings. I'd make short work of those blankets and whatever else she may be wearing. "What are you doing up?" I say instead.

"Had a bad dream." She tells me. "And now I can't sleep. Where have you been all day?"

In the forests with Carmi, redoing the glamour spell she put on me. "Around."

I can see her shaking her head as she heaves a sigh. "Are you mad at me or something, elfboy?" she asks, standing up in a rustle of cloth.

Alarmed, I take a step back, retreating into a corner. "Why would I be mad at you?" I snap. It comes out much harsher than I intended, because I know that there _is_ something to be angry about. Sam is _mine_ and I don't like other people touching what is mine. This is not something I can dwell on, however, because she cannot see me like this; not yet. So I walk away, leaving her confused behind me.

**a/n: Yes, I know, you hate me.**

Valinor's Twilight: I hope this answers your questions! Leggers will be back in the next chapter. I'm excited.

VeronicaD13: Hobbit huggability+ Hobbit concern=Explosion of adorable, yes?

Song in the woods: Oh he will! Legolas no like douches moseying into his women.

Night's Mirth: I kind of loved your review a lot lot lot.

Kinz: Lol, I would apologize for making you laugh so hard that your parents question your sanity but I can't, that would be insincere. You totally are my fave reviewer. I love all the rambling. We are kindred spirits. Anyway, Twinkletoes comes back in the next one! Yip-yip!

Chaco: Yes, you go eat that cookie. Do it in my honor. You're so lucky though! New Zealand is so beautiful, it's one of my life goals to visit there.

Lordythering11: YOU'RE VERY WELCOME! Lol, I don't know yet. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. We shall see~

Aya013: OH MY GOSH, AYA YOU'RE BACK! I'M SO GLAD TO SEE YOUR…USERNAME. I'm trying this thing where I update faster than I did before because goddamn I want to get to the sequel already.

Laitane: Lol, you're adorable. I hope this was fast enough! I tried my very best to get it up just half a day after I got the 390th review.

Dragons redemption: Dude, those are some pretty sweet ideas, no lie. I really like that second one although the last one would be more appropriate for the douchebag. Legolas is back in the next chapter! Watch out for it.

Much love, y'all.


	45. Time stops for no one, except maybe me

**a/n: So, this wasn't supposed to come until next week, but homework is for chumps and this proves that I am not. A chump. Er.**

**Chapter 45: Time stops for no one, except maybe me.**

Augh, I can't believe this. It cannot be seven and a half months since I left Minas Tirith already! Time get over here, you and I are gonna have words.

Yeah, like Time would _actually_ give you anything but a passing glance, god Sam, _get_ over yourself.

I am not being a bitch to myself, what are you talking about? Have you never heard of antsy internal monologues? Oh shut it, it's just another item in the long list of what makes me absolutely fucking gonzo. We've discussed this; it also makes me very, very endearing. You'll miss me when I'm gone, admit it. Especially because you'll have forgotten what peaceful silence is like and it'll freak you the fuck out to actually experience it again.

Alright, alright I'm stopping.

You can't blame me for letting the inner bitch go crazy though. I'm leaving the shire in T minus ten minutes. Tears have been shed. Letters have been written and sent ahead to Minas Tirith because holy hell, Boromir is probably throwing a fit. I figure he must have learned about my choice in traveling companions by now and if he's going to kill me when I get back, then I should definitely, definitely enjoy the rest of my trip.

"Cookie!" Oh look, there's Pippin. "Are you absolutely certain that I can't persuade you to stay another day?"

I shake my head in the negative. He looks crestfallen and I have to laugh. "Dude, did you really think it'd work after the first five times?"

"It was worth a shot." He grumbles, uttering a sentence we all know he picked up from me.

I punch him lightly on the shoulder and grin. "Come on, it's not like you're not coming for Faramir and Eowyn's wedding. You can handle not seeing me for a month."

"But nobody knows how to bake baguettes and croissants here!" he complains, with various supporting nods from the rest of the peons. "How are we supposed to survive? Would you really leave us to _starve_?"

Oh, good _lord_. I don't know whether I should feel proud that my melodramatic tendencies are actually contagious or scared because I've had such a huge influence on hobbits. Fuck me; I should never have made anything French here. I've turned them all cheesy.

No, that was not slanderous or insulting. France is famous for its cheese. They have the stinky blue cheese, for crying out loud!

"I am not even going to touch that." I say, shaking my head and patting Charcoal's flank. "Now we _really_ have to get going you guys, or we'll never get to Bree before nightfall."

Frodo concedes that I'm right. HA! See? I'm _right!_ He holds out his arms for a hug and I bend down and tackle him. "Be careful out there, my friend." He whispers low in my ear. "And I do not mean just of the road."

That thing with the distrust of Sketch? Yeah, it's still kind of there. Scratch that, it's totally there. Sketch has started taking longer walks in the forest in the past week because the hobbit brigade has gotten so unbearable. It was cute in the beginning but that shit just got ridiculous. (And hilarious, yes.) Pippin hardly ever left my side, and at one point I _swear_ I expected him to be sitting outside my bedroom door when I went to pee.

And whenever Sketch is around, they somehow manage to find a way to either get me into the next room or have the entire children's population of Hobbiton converge on me. Hobbits are evil masterminds. They lull you into a false sense of security with their cuteness and then they give you metaphorical whiplash with their subtle genius. Still, I kind of feel bad for Sketch. I mean sure the guy's dodgy as hell and is most probably the type of guy who'd roofie a girl at a club if someone brought the idea up, but he's toned down the creepy these past few months.

I'm actually thinking I'm a good influence on him.

No, I don't think my crazy is having adverse effects on him. Take your psychobabble and get out of here, right now. Oh, and make sure to get me some chocolate. Bitch.

…I don't even know. Clearly, my crazy isn't ready to stop growing. I honestly, _honestly_ don't understand how I continue existing despite all my grand insanity.

"See you in a month, muffins." I call out to the hobbits; turning around in my saddle and waving energetically back at them.

Oh god, I'm not even fifteen feet away and I already miss them. Pathetic.

OoO

**-Boromir -**

_Four months ago_

It has been four months. Four months to the day that Sam left Minas Tirith to wander Middle Earth and I have heard nary a peep from her. I am not at all pleased, and I am definitely going to throttle her when she gets back.

I run my hands irritably through my hair and continue my pacing. I get tired of this after a few minutes and instead make my way over to the table to consult a map. It is dotted with various spots of bright red ink, to help me track the approximate progress of her journey. I imagine she's halfway to the Shire by now, to visit the hobbits but you never can tell with that woman. For all anyone knows she might have fallen into a ditch trying to save a baby robin.

Daft, she is.

Actually, that may not be too far off the mark. Sam could be lying in a ditch right this very moment, with a broken limb! She shall starve to death like that! I must send help!

I rush to door and nearly collide with Faramir.

"Whoa, brother!" he cries, jumping back just in time. "What has got you in such a hurry?"

I grab him by the shoulders and shake him roughly. Must I constantly knock sense into my younger siblings? They are going to send me prematurely gray. "Come brother, our little sister could be lying in a ditch somewhere with a broken limb; we must send aid to her at once!"

Faramir, the useless bum that he is, merely stares at me; one eyebrow raised in what Sam calls his 'whatchoo on about, crazy?' look. To be honest, I believe he got it from _her_. "Come again?"

"Sam." I begin again through gritted teeth. I feel a headache coming on. "Our little sister may be lying in a ditch somewhere—"

"No, no, I heard you the first time." He interrupts raising both hands. "What I meant was _what_ in Eru's name are you babbling about, man? Sam isn't lying in a ditch somewhere. Elessar would not have allowed her to leave if he thought she could not handle herself out there. You worry like an old maid."

His words are so close to what Sam she would say that I am actually stunned to silence. Faramir walks over to the table and picks up my map. "I am getting rid of this." He informs me. He rumples the map up into a ball and tosses it unceremoniously out the window. "I know you miss her, Boromir, as do I but you need to trust her to make her own decisions."

"She is a magnet for trouble." I argue, not without reason. Tell me, has anyone else met someone who never _actually_ goes looking for danger so interwoven into the thick of such dangerous times? I left her alone in Rohan for an _hour_ and she somehow managed to find the _one_ soldier who was drunk enough to try and assault her. Forget that, if you think about it she and Natasha had simply been minding their own business in her world when they were suddenly dropped into ours. My heart cannot rest easy knowing that she is out there with no one to keep her from killing herself. Or half the population of Middle Earth.

"Aye that she is." Faramir agrees, clapping me on the shoulder. "But she is a good fighter, and if she ever finds herself in the hands of unseemly folk, I am sure they would only throw her out once they discover that her mouth runs on forever."

I glower at him. I do not appreciate his making light of the situation. "I do not understand how you can be so cavalier about it. Do you not worry for her safety?"

"Of course I do!" he snaps suddenly. "I have simply decided to trust her judgment. I know this is difficult for you to understand, given all the years you have tried to do it to me, but you cannot shield her from the world."

I do not deign to answer that, instead honing in to the scroll tucked into his belt. "Is that a letter?" I ask, making a grab for it.

"Hey!" my brother protests attempting to retrieve it. "That is _my_ letter!"

"It is from Eowyn I see," I comment, making gagging noises as I open it. "She _must_ have news of Sam."

My head spins as Faramir lands a punch on the back of my head. I shove a hand in his face and hold him at arm's length as I continue reading.

…apologize for not writing sooner. Rebuilding of Rohan going well…looking forward to seeing you again, my love…disgusting. Ah, here it is.

'_Sam came through Rohan four months ago, with a strange elf in tow_._ He was not among the elves that visited the city during the coronation. He called himself Naravanen, and he says he has been living in the woods of Firien for a month. I have never heard of elves living in such solitude before, except perhaps in the olden days when Arda was young. He rescued Sam from the hands of a stray party of orcs, apparently. I find him to be suspicious, but thought better of making Sam tell him to leave. I do not think she would have taken it well. She has made me promise not to tell Boromir, but you were left out of the equation my love, so I tell you this in confidence. I shall leave you to judge whether Boromir should know.'_

I am going to _kill_ her.

OoO

**-Sam-**

So, Bree is like this honest-to-goodness village, right? Right. It's filled with little shops and inns and brothels and everything a rustic village should be like. So, I'm liable to get my nerd on and not only explore, but also shop, right? Right. So, I suppose pushing Sketch off to the Prancing Pony to make reservations is the best thing I could have done so I could explore properly and without a whiny little entourage trailing behind me, right? Wrong.

Stupid elf can't seem to accomplish the simple task of booking two fucking single rooms for a single fucking night.

"What the hell do you _mean_ they thought we were siblings?" I demand of him. I am clutching his tunic in my fist and shaking him harshly. "You're a fucking elf!"

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "They're booked solid; we're lucky we _got_ a room in the first place!"

We're outside, by the stables, and I've been shouting at him for the better part of an hour. I mean, _seriously_, how bloody hard is it to book two damn rooms in a Middle Earthian inn? Clearly, I'm traveling with an uneducable _moron_.

"Alright, alright, you're pissed, and I'm sorry." He says, scratching the back of his neck, tiredly. "You can talk to Butterbur yourself, if you want to. There's really nothing else to be done. They're booked to the nines, with trade folk."

Oh, don't think I _won't_ talk to Butterbur, elfboy. I shove past him and stomp over to the Prancing Pony where a large man with bright red cheeks and a magically curling mustache stood behind the counter. His eyebrows are knit together as he frowns at an open book on the table. My shadow darkens his logbooks and he looks up and smiles brightly at me, mopping up his sweaty brow. "Ah, little miss!" he greets pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"Stop calling me _little_, for starters." I all but growl under my breath as I paste a smile on my face. "Any luck with the room arrangements, Master Barliman?"

His brows knit together again and he casts a worried look around, as if to make sure that I didn't come back to bring the cavalry of Minas Tirith to lay waste to his inn. Funny thing about being a noblewoman and wearing the insignia of the house of Ecthelion, people go out of their way _not_ to piss you off. Seven months on the road and I only just noticed. My observation skills truly are abysmal.

"My absolute apologies miss." He says fretfully. "But we truly are booked solid, and there's nowhere else I can put you in until tomorrow night. A large party of tradesmen from all over are in town tonight and the accommodations have been put to the breaking point."

Ugh, it's not fair. How can I stay mad at someone who is obviously so terrified of my background and the friendships that entails, that he's actually sweating like a pig at the mere sight of me? I can't do it. It doesn't help any that Butterbur is kind of adorable in that bumbling way that Shaggy and Scooby-Doo are so well-known for.

My life officially sucks.

OoO

**-Naravanen-**

Oh, she is pissed. I recognize that tell-tale curl of the lip, that cute little frown…pretty soon she's going to start kicking things and giving me the cold shoulder. Sam, I can read you like an open book. She's sitting in the inn with the townsfolk, holding a mug of ale in her hand. Compliments of the house, I'd wager. Butterbur is terrified of some person called Gandalf. That's the wizard, if memory serves me right. The barmy old fool that Carmi is absolutely petrified of. She refuses to step within ten feet of the man. I make my way towards where she's sitting, placing a hand on her delicate shoulder. She looks up at me and her face automatically contorts into a glare and she shakes off my hand.

"Go away." She tells me, irritably. I sit down next to her and try to look appropriately apologetic.

"I really _am_ sorry, Sam." I'm actually not. This is the most fortuitous thing to happen this entire trip. Sam and I together in a single room, in a single bed…I can hardly contain myself just thinking about it. It was different when we were in the wild. I knew I had to keep my distance, act the part I was assigned to, confine myself to long, searing glances when I knew she wasn't paying attention, but now…now we had to be in the same room together, and while I know this isn't the right time to make her mine again, I'm dying for a little taste.

Seven months. Seven whole months of doing nothing but look and reign in my impulses; I think I am entitled to this one night.

"I don't care if you're sorry." She snaps, taking a long swig of her drink. This is such an amazing night. First an error in housekeeping and now Sam getting slowly but surely drunk. "You're still sleeping on the floor."

Like hell I am.

She slams the mug down on the table and pushes herself sloppily to her feet. I wonder, briefly, how much ale she's had, but decide it doesn't really matter. She stumbles into me, her soft form pressing into me. Her hair smells like of a heady mixture of berries. "You okay?" I ask softly into her ear, noting the shiver that runs down her spine.

"Fine." She answers, pulling away. "Going to get some air."

She totters outside and I follow after her, not bothering to conceal my grin and the way I lick my lips as I weave through the crowd. I love drunk-Sam. She's always more open and easier to talk to than sober-Sam. She bobs through the crowd, like a dingy caught in a storm at sea, which makes me laugh. She's never been able to hold her liquor, but she always insists on drinking anyway. Not that I'm complaining, after all, we've had many fun times together when she's been smashed.

When it comes to Sam, alcohol is always very welcome. Fuck, where has she gone?

OoO

**-Sam-**

Mmmmm, my head feels fuzzy. I like eggs. Oyes. Yes, yes, yes.

Wait. No, that's not right. I like _ale_. Although yes, I do like eggs as well, they're very healthy when taken in moderation and it's always lovely to wake up to a well-made omelet. I once remember eating only eggs for an entire week. Omelet du fromage in the morning, with a dash of cilantro or nutmeg, don't cringe s'very unbecoming, besides it's lovely tastes. Then I had them poached or hard-boiled with a little tomato on the side, and then I baked them for dinner. Yes, you can bake eggs. French invention. Don't you just _love_ the French? The hobo—hobba—little people do! And why wouldn't they? First there are the amazing virtues of French bread, and then there's their ingenious cooking!

You _can_ too bake eggs! If I had an oven here, I'd show you. But sadly Middle earth no has ovens. No has electricity too. It's going to be such a bitch in the summer with no air-conditioning system. I think I'm going to make like those ducks and fly south for the winter.

Wait. No, that's not right either. Ducks fly to warm climates for the winter. Bugger. I can't even figure out simple duck migration patterns. Woe.

So, what was I saying? Oh, yes. Baked eggs. It's amazing really, you just put the eggs and a little cream into ramekins and then you put the ramekins into a pan filled with water and then you bake. You eat them with these awesome little bits of toast and it's heavenly. _Heavenly_. You know what else is heavenly? Legokisses.

'Cept, I don't think I'm allowed to think that. Because thinking leads to doing and I can't be doing the elf, you know, because he's an elf, and I'm a human girl from three thousand years into the future. We're like…what's that song say again? Oh. Oh yeah.

We were the right love at the wrong tiiiime. And also not of the same species. That'

"Hullo broody." Where is that coming from? I know that voice from somewhere. "Over here milady."

Where is _here_, exactly? I crane my neck and look around wildly for a few minutes before finally settling on a person sitting on a log across from me. Oh _hey,_ it's Baerlad!

"Whatchoo doin' 'ere?" I ask, jumping up and clapping him on the back. This is a great accomplishment as I can no longer feel my legs.

Baerlad gives me a look and asks, "Are you _drunk_?"

I give him an addled grin. "Little bit, yeah." I hold up two fingers to demonstrate. "Just by this much."

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, this shall prove a little difficult then."

What will? Oh but it is _hot_ here. Isn't it supposed to be nearing winter? Where all the cold be?

"Oh sweet Eru!" he nearly throws himself on me to stop my hands. "What the devil do you think you are doing?!"

I blink blankly at him. "Taking off my clothes, what does it look like?" Jeez, you'd think _he_ was the one who was drunk. "Keep up, Baerlad."

Oh yes, I am a bitchy drunk. We've been over this before. "Why, pray tell are you doing _that_?"

"Because," I tell him slowly, like I'm talking to a difficult child. "It's hot here."

Baerlad swears. I make a lot of people do that, don't I?

"My lady, please, by all that is good can you _stop_ trying to shed your clothing?" he entreats, pushing my hair back from my face. I give him another addled grin in response. "Nine hells, I pity the poor prince, he is going to need all the help he can get with you."

Prince? Pity yourself, fool. He's going to skin you alive once he finds out you nearly saw me naked. I'm not sure if I said this aloud or if Baerlad realized this himself, but either way, he goes white as a sheet and tells me to sit down, shut up and keep my accursed clothes on, for pity's sake before running off into the night.

Hee, do you think he's gone to get Legobones? Oh, I hope so. Except not really because I don't think I'm allowed to jump him and have his blonde, blue-eyed annoying sprogs. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's annoying and terribly inconvenient but what can you do? I blame Tolkien for never writing about Legolas' background. He could have made the damn elf have a family and stuff, with kids and…dogs, and then we wouldn't be in this mess. No, you know what, scratch that. I blame Tolkien for this whole mess entirely. If he hadn't written about Middle earth there would be no predicament to be getting into. I wouldn't be here. Or…at least I hope not. I really, really hope not.

"Goddamn you're fast for a drunk." a breathless voice tells me.

I look up and beam through the fog of alcohol, just so I have something to do. "Legolas?" I put forth. I want bread.

"No, I am not that stupid blonde tit." Oooh, angry man.

I glare darkly at the blob before making a swipe. "He's not a tit." I say irritably. "He's a stick in the mud and possibly a Disney Princess in disguise, but he most certainly is not a tit."

The blob lets out a frustrated groan and takes hold of my wrist. "Alright, fine. He's not a tit. Now will you please come upstairs? I need to put you to bed before you do something stupid."

No. I don't go around getting into beds with strange blobs. I'm drunk, not stupid.

No, you are not allowed to beg to differ. Shut your face.

"Ah, she has good sense after all." a very different, very gruff voice says. Even in my drunken state I can tell it's familiar and exceedingly amused. "Too bad it only comes out when she's drunk."

I shake my head, I'm going to say that I did it because I wanted to maybe shake the drunkenness out from my ears or...something, but it doesn't work. Instead I just end up with a mild headache, but hurrah, I have reclaimed the use of my senses! Not fully, no, but it's a start.

"Gimli!!" I squeal in delight as I propel myself towards him and engulf him in a hug. My attempt to shower his face with kisses lands me on my ass. Oh my god, I've missed him. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"Trying to find you, milady." Baerlad answers for him, grabbing my hand and pulling me upright. "You have the entire White City in an uproar; we have not received word from you since the onset of your journey. Your brothers are about ready to kill you."

Excuse me Baerlad, but I don't believe I was talking to you. Are you Gimli now? I don't think your beard is quite as impressive as the ginger mess currently in front of me, no sir. So why are you answering for him?

"You _are_ a mean drunk." He remarks with a low whistle. I think the thing I liked the most about this doofus, even when he was a threat t my cake batter, is that he knows how to take everything in stride. I don't think anyone else, with the exception of Tasha and elves could handle all of my bitchy, drunken verbal diarrhea and come up with just that tiny comment.

But hang on, I think we're all missing the important piece of the puzzle here. I don't rightly remember what it is yet, but gimme a minute and it'll come to me, I'm sure of it. In the meantime, I beam brightly at Baerlad and Gimli and attempt to not look as addled as I actually am. "Have I been hearing lies, or were you truly defending my honor?"

…oh my lord, I think my heart just jumped about a foot in my chest. I'm surprised I'm not dead from all the girlish turns of phrase that are currently running through my head. It's disgusting to admit but I've pictured this reunion countless times, and in none of the versions have I ever been drunk. In my head, it was supposed to happen in Mirkwood. We'd run into him and Gimli and he'd catch sight of me and stop in his tracks and I'd bound into his arms like in a Disney movie and time would stand still. Then I'd wake up and berate myself for being so insolent as to think that time would actually stand still for me.

Of course, things never work out the way we plan. For instance, I _am_ drunk, drunk off my ass and proud of it, and he's—well, he's as heartbreakingly handsome as ever. I kind of hate him for it, the big pansy. There's no Romeo and Juliet, Westside Story moment of catching each other's eye across the dancefloor, instead I just turn around and tackle him in a hug.

"Lush." He tells me, a laugh issuing from his lips. I pull away and because I'm drunk and I've missed him _so_ much and I don't _care_ if anybody else can see, I kiss him. Consider it payback for the one he stole from me before he left.

And then, for some strange reason, time _did_ stand still. I'm thinking it's because my friend Father Time was doing me a solid. Or possibly because I'm so awesome. Either way works for me.

**a/n: I'm not going to lie, this chapter was **_**so**_** hard to write. Sam wouldn't do a single thing I told her to, so this is not how I originally intended it to go, but whatever, I like it. I'll get to everyone's requests soon, because I'm out of school after next week. Major yayness, I know. Anyway, I've written a couple of one-shots from the series and I've posted the first here, so click on my profile and check it out. It's called **_Pencil Sketches_**, anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Review like the wind!**


	46. Yo, get me some of that haterade

A/N: Lol, I find it funny that I get flames _now_ when the story's almost finished. I guess I should have said from the very beginning that all flames shall be poured horse piss on and laughed at like a hyena. Or I could let Sam speak for me, which is pretty much what I'm doing. Eitherway, let the hatefest begin.

**Chapter 46: Yo, get me some of that haterade.**

This is how it goes, a story is a story until it's not anymore. Words are just words until they start leaping off the page and coming to life before your very eyes. I never did get my happily ever after. Or maybe I did, it's just that _he_ wasn't in it.

A lot of people are going to hate my story, and truthfully a lot of them already do. They've expressed themselves in numerous rude ways. Some of them have thrown insults, asked me to destroy my tale, but that's okay. People are entitled to their own opinions, and I am likewise entitled not to give a fuck. Being in Middle Earth was the best time of my life, even though it may not be what most people deem right or appropriate. I don't set much store by propriety anyway; all I know is that I live life as hard as I can and if you don't agree then you can pretty much just suck it.

Sometimes, when I walk down the street to get a croissant, I think maybe that business man by the corner is Elrond (it's the eyebrows), or that maybe the rowdy bachelors in the apartment above mine are the twins. I don't know for sure; I've never seen them, but I can hear them sometimes, laughter loud and raucous as ever and it helps to alleviate the feeling of missing everyone so much it hurts. I guess I should have known better than to expect a happy ending. I was bound to stay in limbo, missing one place no matter where I stayed. Blast the human condition.

Funny thin though, I don't regret anything. I don't experience any form of debilitating sadness like Tasha expects me to. I got to live the dream, and yes there are moments of intense longing every now and again but that's more than enough of a price to pay for something that no one else could have hoped for.

It's not the life I would have chosen, that's true. But if it were a choice between leaving Arda safe from Carmi's and Art's clutches or staying and seeing them destroy everything I hold dear, I'd choose to leave every single time. I still visit them sometimes, in the ward where they're both not allowed anything sharp. Carmi's always muttering things about darkness and Art barely speaks at all. It's funny but in a messed up way, they're my biggest tie to Arda. The two people who caused all the misery in my life, forever entombed in a casket of white.

My only love sprung from my only hate.

Oh wait, I guess I should take that down, lest the haters accuse me of defacing Shakespeare and being pretentious. I suppose I should listen to them since those most qualified to point out pretentious behavior are those who are excessively pretentious themselves.

Then again, it's only that one line and who says haters have a monopoly on pretension, anyway?

I wish I had more for you. Some well-crafted ending with champagne and fireworks and love songs that tells you all you want to hear, but instead all I have is dark chocolate: bittersweet and a little sinful, but filled with antioxidants that are inevitably good for you. Oh wait, that's bordering on pretentious again, but bear with me here. You see, I love Legolas and I'm pretty sure I always will. It's a stupid, excessive, rollercoaster kind of love that leaves me breathless, but I chose to keep him safe instead, to leave him behind so I could be with my best friend.

She's the girl I gave my heart to when I was six, the girl who held me together when I thought the world was going to tear me apart. _You'll always be my best friend, Sam_. And I guess, even though I love Legolas a little too much, I'll always love her best. She was in my every hidden thought when I was alone in a strange new world, and she's behind me now as I try to pick up the pieces of the life I left behind. And while that's not a happy ending, it isn't a sad ending either and I guess…that's good enough for me.

A/N: So, okay, I know, I know. I don't have much to say, except that I'm aware this isn't the epitome of literature. That's kind of how it goes when you start something when you're 13. Also, I started this for shits and giggles, and I've been writing it for shits and giggles from the get go. I had fun, and people had fun with me, so you people who are calling this the worst thing you've ever read? You can suck it. Hardcore.

Peace out, bitches. I'll see you around.


End file.
